Grave Bait
by PirateTurtle4
Summary: Picture if you will a daughter.Then a mother's secret kept from that daughter.And that secret just might be enough to save that daughter upon her mother's death.If they can survive each other first.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: well, here's my new fic…..I guess you could say it's a sorta combo betwixt and between the movie and the cartoon Beetlejuice. I'm gonna try and stay faithful to both, but please don't get upset or whatever if I deviate from the plot. _

_Maybe just offer constructive criticism. That'd be cool. Anyway, be prepared for fluff, oodles of clichés, some dirty immature humor, and perhaps, and this is a big perhaps as I'm not too sure yet, some hardcore smut._

_I'd also like to point out this is the first het non slash thing I've written, but the lil plot bunny just wouldn't leave me alone. Seriously. I think it was stalking me. Happens all the time. I've gotten used to it, being followed by fuzzy lil plot bunnies each one begging for attention and each one cuter than the last. Ah well, cest la vie.(I hope I spelled that right, French is not my forte)_

Lydia stared into the bathroom mirror, trying desperately not to peek at the little stick of plastic in the container on the edge of the sink. Like if she did, she'd ruin it. The seconds ticked by, ever so slowly, until the alarm jangled, signaling the allotted time had passed. She let out an undignified little yelp of surprise, nearly dropping the timer. The jury was ready to read the verdict out. Guilty or not. Though they all knew it was so much more than that.

Equal parts dread and excitement mingled and rolled together in the pit of her stomach, making her feel like throwing up, crying and giggling all at once. Lydia however, was not enjoying the sensation. Steeling herself, forcing her hand not to shake, she opened the lid and read the answer. The answer that would change their lives if positive, and be something of a disappointment if negative. Though, and here she smiled wickedly, they could always keep trying. Her dark brown eyes widened as she read the word printed oh so neatly in the little window.

Pregnant.

Outside the bathroom, he jumped as her heard an excited whoop. A grin curled up the corner of his lips, and he braced himself as the door flew open and he was tackled, her arms about his neck. She kissed him on each cheek while she spoke.

"Honey" *Kiss* "Oh honey, we" *Kiss* "Are" *Kiss kiss* "Pregnant!"

"Are we really Lydia?" he asked, teasing her. Lydia stepped back, looking at him through a veil of her long black hair, arching an eyebrow. "Ollie, would I honestly be out here kissing you like this if we weren't? You think I like to proclaim something like that for kicks?" "I don't know, you might. You've always been a little odd," he kissed her forehead as he said it, his hazel eyes soft and looking at her fondly. "If I'm a little odd, you're positively weird, sticking around me so long," Lydia grinned. "It's 'cause I love you so much," Ollie answered. She shoved his shoulder lightly, before twining her hands in his soft brown hair. "I love you too," she pulled him in for a kiss.

Lydia Deetz and Oliver "Ollie" Hawkins had met in college in a photography course, both in their freshman year. They had been assigned the same film developing station, and sparks had flown over the chemicals. Upon graduation, Ollie had proposed. He had been sure she would say yes, but she had hesitated. She wanted to marry him so much, but, she wasn't sure how he would react to her 'little secret'. Her rowdy, raunchy, live wire of a little secret in a black and white striped suit.

So, never one to lie about something so huge, Lydia sat down with Ollie over coffee, and gave him the full story. Everything from the first meeting at the Maitland's, to a year later when she'd called him again, near desperate for a companion, to all the years of friendship that followed. And he sat there, listening intently, sipping his coffee. He'd asked for a few days to soak it all in, while she waited nervously. Would he believe her, would he think her crazy? Would he dump her? He did none of them; instead he took it in stride, believing her. He had always been open to such things, and Lydia wouldn't lie to him. And if she would, she wouldn't come up with something so outlandish. Lydia had never been more relieved. Although Ollie's acceptance often made her wonder what she had done to deserve him. He was perfect.

The two had been married a year after graduating from college, in October, and moved back to Lydia's hometown of Peaceful Pines. And now, three years later, they were going to have a baby! Neither of them could be happier. There was just one thing to take care of. Well, two actually. Not only did Lydia have to talk to her best friend, she had to decide if she would stay at work. She had been asked to be a sort of counselor for the dead, as she had an affinity for them, and help them through the process of being dead. It was Juno's idea, but with the coming baby…

"Are you going to tell him?" Ollie asked. He had never met him. According to Lydia, he hadn't taken it well her getting married to Ollie. Something about losing his best friend really upset him, and hearing how well she got along with Ollie, well, that was just the icing on the cake. They hadn't seen much of each other since, not really. "I suppose I should, shouldn't I? He's so not going to be happy though. Not even for me, of if I tell him he can be like, godfather or something," Lydia sighed, brushing her hair from her face. "Sorry hun. But still, he deserves to know, doesn't he?"Ollie said coaxingly. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll be in a bit." "I'll stay inside. Don't want to give him a reason to be angry." "True, very true. He never gets angry at me, but you, he would have no issue with. And you don't want that. You really don't." "Just be careful Lyd."

Ollie watched Lydia carefully make her way outside. On the rare times she met with him, it was usually outside on the rope and wood board swing they had hanging from the thickest branch of the tallest maple tree outside. As the weather was warm still, that's where she went now. She moved so gracefully, giving no sign that she was carrying a little person in her belly; not even a belly bump showed under her over sized t-shirt that she wore for pajamas in the summer. He personally couldn't wait to see, though he knew she'd start to get annoyed with it after awhile, and then the cravings and such. Ollie would relish it. Strange but true.

Lydia perched on the swing, arms looped about the ropes supporting it. Vines were starting to climb up them, giving it a soft, earthy scent that calmed her no matter what. Some days she'd just sit and watch the vines creep over her hands as she held them outspread. But not tonight. Tonight, she tilted her head back to see the moon floating through the brushed velvet sky alight with glitter and sparkles, and opened herself to the night. Her voice started off low at first, rising in strength with each uttered phrase.

"Though I know I should be wary, still I venture someplace scary. Ghostly hauntings I turn loose, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, BEETLEJUICE!!!"

The air seemed to shift and ripple, and the wind whipped her hair around her face. She heard him before she saw him, a wild cackling laugh. "Beginning to think you'd forgotten me Babes," Beetlejuice popped out of thin air and landed in front of Lydia. A snap of the fingers and a swing next to her appeared and he plopped himself down on it. "Now, you know I could never forget you Beej," Lydia grinned at him fondly. "I know but would it kill ya to call? I'm lonely over there by myself," he pulled a sad face in an attempt to coax her to visit more often. Lydia bit her lip, nervous for the first time in a long time around him. She worried at her bottom lip with her teeth slightly, looking at her knees. "Lyds? What's up Babes?" Beetlejuice noticed something was bothering his friend. "BJ, I'm not too sure I'll be able to visit much more," she said softly.

Well, if that didn't hit like a ton of bricks. She hardly visited anyway. Now she might stop completely? He stole a glance at her, noticing the soft little grin she wore, how she seemed to be drifting in a daze as she kicked back and forth on the swing, scuffing up little puffs of dust from where the grass had worn away from years of feet dragging. He fidgeted on his swing, knowing she would elaborate eventually, but struggling with his impatience all the same. In the mean time, he looked down the hill to her parents' old house, empty and cloaked in dust now that they had moved out, moved to New York. The silence stretched out, longer and longer until Beetlejuice thought he would go crazy…or well, crazier.

"I'm pregnant."

Literally, Beetlejuice's jaw hit the ground with a thud. He picked it up, slamming it into place again. "You're what? Pregnant? Like, going to have a baby? You, and…and…him?!" Beetlejuice gestured wildly towards the house, where Ollie was inside waiting, hopefully with ice cream. "Yeah, me and him. A baby. A little person," Lydia smiled down at her stomach, where her son or daughter was growing.

Saying Beej was less than pleased would have been an understatement.

"Great, just great! What about me Babes? Just gonna toss me aside for this new set up you got? Years of friendship gone, down the toilet, just like that? Just for your darling hubby and this new little 'bundle of joy'?" he air quoted. "Don't use air quotes at me! And, I mean, I was going to ask you to be like, god father, or Uncle Beej, if you wanted," Lydia murmured. He scoffed, a harsh grating sound. "That's it? Thought I'd be fine with just playing Uncle BJ, showing up at Christmas and birthdays, listening to the screaming whining little thing?" "I'd though, that since you're my best friend…" "Oh really? Am I Lydia?" He used her whole first name, never a good sign.

It spiraled out of control from there, and she banished him, before storming inside, tears standing out in her eyes. "He's not going to meet the baby. I'm not talking to him ever again!" she swore vehemently. "I take it things didn't go well?" Ollie asked gently. "No, not at all. He just couldn't accept that I wouldn't be able to see him much. My life doesn't revolve around him. So, we just won't tell the baby about him. Ever," Lydia urged. Ollie could have protested that she'd maybe change her mind in the morning, but she was upset. She'd basically just broken up with her best friend. He couldn't argue with her. Not now.

And so the months passed. Lydia's stomach rounded out until she couldn't see her feet anymore, and she was forced to deal with back aches, kicking from the baby, and weird cravings at all hours of the day and night. Until nine months were gone, and May fifth, Crowe Marie Hawkins was born. She looked just like her mother, but for her father's dark hazel eyes. She had tufts of fuzzy black hair, a button nose, and a ready smile. Until she was hungry and let it be known that she was. She was positively doted upon by both her parents, given toys and books, and when she was old enough, she was allowed to help decorate her room. Until, when she was ten her perfect happy little world came crashing down around her.

Ollie slouched across the desk in the attic, what he and Lydia liked…had liked to affectionately call The Tower. It was a combination office, dark room, nursery, ghostly therapy room, whatever they'd needed it to be. It had a sweeping view of all the lawn, and some of the bordering houses. Even with the windows open, the weak sunlight filtering through, it felt more like a dungeon than a tower. Ollie felt like he was suffocating, like he couldn't get a steady breath. Each gasp rattled in his lungs, and burned his eyes. The last of the funeral goers were trickling away, their grief left behind like some thick choking cloak, adding to his and Crowe's. Speaking of the little girl…

Crowe sat on the front steps, watching various relatives leave, her right leg in its thick white cast stretched out before her. As he watched, she picked up her short little crutches and hobbled into the house. She hadn't spoken since he'd brought her home. He knew she blamed herself for…for the accident. She felt that if she hadn't made sure Lydia made good on her promise of a girls' day out, the accident would never have happened. They would never have gotten smashed into by the flipped over 18 wheeler, which sent them spinning into oncoming traffic and stuck between the median and a fully loaded Hummer, upside down. Crowe wouldn't have nearly died…wouldn't have had to watch her mother die.

That had been roughly a month ago, and the month had been complete and utter hell on both of them. A rift formed between them, one bourn of silence and guilt filled eyes. What made it so much worse was that Lydia's 'patients' weren't taking it well that they no longer were getting the help they felt they deserved, and were turning malicious. Ollie started to believe the Crowe was sensitive to the spirits, and they frightened her, because she no longer wanted to sleep alone. Her simple, whispered explanation was that she missed her mommy, but he could see in her eyes, something scared her. And he would do anything, anything to protect her.

A scream tore Ollie from his melancholy musings, and he stumbled in his haste to reach the kitchen. Crowe was huddled under the kitchen table, arms over her head, as the china plates and bowls flew out of the cabinets and shattered into pieces against the floor, table, and walls. She looked like she'd gotten caught a few times, as blood trickled from her cheek and hand. "Daddy make it stop!" she cried plaintively, eyes screwed shut. "Stop! Stop it right now! Leave her alone!" Ollie yelled as forcefully as he could.

Mercifully, the china stopped, and fell to the ground, bursting into shards. He gathered his daughter up into his arms, rocking her, trying his best to calm and soothe her as she cried into his neck. He had to do something, anything, and the only one he could think of with the haunting in this state was _him_. Lydia had said to never ask him for help, he'd regret it. But what choice did he have? He had to protect Crowe.

In the Neitherworld, Beetlejuice scanned the business section (the obituaries to most people), not really expecting anything of interest. His eyes flicked back though to a familiar sounding name. "No, no no no no no! Lyds!" A heartbroken cry rose up from his chest, wrenching itself from his lips until it echoed off the walls. How could something like this have happened? His murky eyes read and re-read the article, not willing to believe it. A car accident. A flipped over big rig, slammed into the median and stuck between a Hummer, upside down. Daughter barely survived. What they failed to mention was where Lyds had gone. Beetlejuice would have liked to think that if she'd come to the Neitherworld, she'd come right away to him. Even if she was still mad at him after about ten years. But she hadn't. Which meant…which meant she had gone on…she didn't want him anymore, didn't need him. She'd forgotten him. Even though his heart didn't beat anymore, it could still break, and was breaking as he crumbled up the newspaper, and floated sadly to curl up on his couch.

If he slept, he didn't know. It seemed like no time had passed since he'd lain down, and suddenly he was awake, and hearing painfully familiar words chanted uncertainly. Someone was summoning him, and for a minute, just a minute, he thought it was Lydia. That it had been a cruel trick, and she was really alive still. But no. This voice was male. Beetlejuice followed it; he had no choice really, and appeared out of thin air in front of a haggard, but also familiar looking man.

Ollie took in the sight of the self proclaimed ghost with the most, questioning once more if this was the right decision. The man looked even more unkempt than Lydia had described, and in a state of great pain. He must've heard. Well of course he did, according to Lydia, the dead kept an eye on the living, and had their own grapevine and rumor mill.

"You! What do you want?" Beetlejuice spat. "I…I need your help. Desperately," Ollie answered pleadingly. The ghost snorted derisively. "My help? What could ya need my help for? Seem like you're doing just fine." They both glanced at the messy state of the Tower. "L-Lydia told me not to contact you, but I think you're the best for the job I need," Ollie plowed on despite the look in Beetlejuice's eye. "That so? And what job would that be?" "I need…the spirits she was helping have turned malicious, even attacking my daughter. I was wondering if you could remove them." "I'm guessing Lyds never told you. I'm a _bio_-exorcist. I get rid of the living. Why would I want to get rid of my own kind?" Beetlejuice leaned against the far wall, arms crossed across his chest. "Out of friendship for Lydia?" Ollie suggested hopefully. "Oh, you mean that friendship she just dropped for you and your kid?" the other man said scathingly. He floated across the room, looking out the window down at Crowe as she sat on the swing. She'd gone outside once again after the ordeal with the china. He felt a little twinge of something at seeing her cast; she did look a lot like Lyds after all, so it was almost like seeing Lyds hurt. But it was quickly squashed by a purely vindictive idea. On that would hurt the entire family. Which sounded just fine to him.

"Ok Ollie, I'll keep the ghosts out. On one condition," Beetlejuice flashed him a greasy crooked grin. "Name it," Ollie said promptly. "Your daughter." "Pardon?" "You're daughter. The little girl. She marries me, I keep the ghosts out. Sounds fair to me," he shrugged like it was nothing. "But she's only ten!" Ollie protested sharply. "I can wait...what's the legal age? Eighteen? Eight years then. Not like I'm going anywhere," Beetlejuice cackled evilly. Ollie still wasn't convinced. "Look, I'll sweeten the deal. I'll see to it the ghosts stay out even while I'm not married to her. And I'll leave you two alone until she's eighteen. After that though, she's mine. And the ghosts remain outta yer hair after that. Fair enough?" Ollie hung his head. It was, but it seemed so wrong. He had said anything. It was the lesser of two evils from his standpoint. "Fair enough," he said resignedly, shaking Beetlejuice's hand. It was worse than shaking hands with the devil after signing away your soul.

_A/N: so, what did you think? Was it good, bad? Can I improve or should I just scrap it now, quit while I'm ahead? Clicky the little review button and let me know. Me likey reviews. They give me a happy. Thankies. _


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: I guess you could say that technically this is the first chapter and the previous was a sort of intro. A…behind the scenes if you will, a background story. Here's where the action really begins. So, in the immortal words of the ghost with the most, "It's show time!"_

A pale hand rose out of the tangle of lavender and gray sheets and blankets and fumbled around until it hit the button on an alarm clock, ceasing the steadily increasing beeping. A cinnamon brown rat with a white stripe down his back squeaked from his large plastic habitat, complete with tunnels for his amusement. His name was Axl.

The rest of the body soon joined the hand, revealing a girl only recently turned 18, with creamy skin and sleep tousled long wavy black hair. She cracked open her dark hazel eyes, peering around her room. Posters and pictures adorned the walls that were painted in such a way that with one glance they appeared light grey, with another were more pale lilac. A few feet away from her bed was a balcony overlooking the back yard, where she liked to read or draw, or take pictures. Her dad had put in shelves that displayed various snow globes, trinkets, cameras, jewelry, and etc. all around her room. In a spot where it would gain the most sun and always be visible was a framed picture of a woman who looked astonishingly like the girl, holding a baby with a fuzz of black hair. Both appeared to be smiling.

The girl, Crowe was her name, carded her hand through her hair, trying to smooth it out. She swung her legs off the edge of her wrought iron frame bed to the touch her feet to the thick black carpet. She shuffled to her closet, gathering clothes and heading into the bathroom she had attached to her room. 15 minutes later she came out, towel drying her hair. She'd dressed in faded jeans with a hole in the right knee, a black tank top, and a red shawl with a black spider web pattern her mom had altered and given her. It was her favorite reminder of her mom. While her hair was still damp she braided it and then wound the braid around itself and clipped it up in a bun. She lined her eyes in smoky black and was ready for school.

She didn't want to go to school.

That would mean another six hours of torment. No lie. Actual torment. She was…different. And naturally, there were those who disagreed with how she viewed the world, and sought to make her life hell. Just because she hardly ever spoke at school. She just didn't have anything to say to them. But she was smart, and managed to keep her grades up. Her teachers accepted her not speaking, often giving her looks of sympathy which she returned with cool narrowed eyes. She didn't need their pity. Not after 8 years. It was barely into October and she already wanted to leave. She was counting down the days to graduation. It couldn't come soon enough.

"Bye mom," Crowe whispered to the photo of the woman, and swept down stairs with her black teddy bear bag that was missing an eye. "Morning Crowe," her father, Ollie greeted her. "Morning daddy," Crowe sat down, clipping on her charm bracelet. She'd gotten it for her 18th birthday last May. It was silver with tiny enameled crow and rose charms. "What's for breakfast?" "Chocolate chip Eggo waffles," Ollie set a plate in front of her. "Do I have to go to school today? I want to stay home today, tomorrow, and maybe the next few days after that," Crowe asked. "Sweetie, I'd love to let you, but you have to go. What's the problem anyway?" "Clarissa Avery," Crowe whispered vehemently.

Clarissa Avery. Leader of the knot of people who liked to make Crowe's life hell. Beautiful, blonde, popular Barbie clone Clarissa Avery. She and her minions were all the same. Literally. As if they'd been cut out with the same cookie cutter, just frosted and decorated differently. And then there was her boyfriend Dwayne, he of the shaggy dark blonde hair and cerulean blue eyes. Crowe had had a crush on him, until Clarissa has snatched him away. Now he wasn't even worth her time. Problem was, he simply adored Clarissa, and did anything she told him. (i.e., she had him whipped, perfectly trained to obey, and he wasn't smart enough to protest). So, she said jump, he said how high? She said 'I want Crowe's heart on a silver platter; he said original or extra crispy? And as he was the star quarterback, the whole football team followed his example and picked on her at every opportunity. Clarissa was the one who started it, way back in first grade, cawing and chasing Crowe about and making fun of her name and her family. And she had ignored it to the best of her ability. But it's hard when you're alone.

Crowe finished eating, leaving her answer to her dad's question at that. He knew, he understood. She'd heard the stories about her mom's issues with another girl, similar to Clarissa, by the name of Clare Brewster. She'd moved to California, much to Lydia's relief. Ollie watched his daughter stare out the small window above the kitchen sink, her finger tips lightly touching the faint scar on her cheek. While he was relieved that she didn't remember the flying china incident, it also puzzled and concerned him. Why didn't she? However, he had even bigger problems. Crowe had been 18 for five months, and not a word from Beetlejuice. Ollie was even considering telling her, to prepare her, but hadn't yet worked up the courage. _Today, if he doesn't appear today, then I'll tell her,_ he thought to himself.

"Daddy?" Crowe's voice, which he heard so infrequently, broke through his musings. She'd been trying to get his attention for a while. "Yeah sweetie?" "I'm going to school now. I'll see you when I get home." "All right Crowe. Try and have a good day. Just try, ok?" "No promises," Crowe gathered her things and left on her walk to school. She hadn't even gotten her license yet; didn't really plan on it. Driving terrified her more than almost anything. There was only one more thing…but she didn't really like to talk about it. It seemed so silly. So she walked, rain or shine, snow or sleet. She only allowed her dad to drive when he insisted, and even then she clung to the seat and clenched her eyes shut. He did his best to not force the issue; he hadn't been there in the accident. Crowe still blamed herself, which is why she rarely talked. In fact, truth be told, she only talked to Ollie. As far as he knew, she spoke not a word at school.

Crowe disappeared down the path as he watched, her teddy bear bag seeming to wave goodbye to him as she walked. The house seemed emptier without her, and the tension level cranked up a few notches. Ollie didn't know if he wanted the ghost to show up or not. Either way, he needed something to break this anxiety. Something. Anything.

Clarissa was cracking her bubble gum right behind Crowe, exceedingly loud. That in itself was bad enough, but she was also tapping her foot against the leg of Crowe's chair, and her pencil was squeaking against her paper. If she didn't stop one or all very soon, Crowe was going to break her cardinal rule of ignoring it and stick Clarissa's gum in her perfect blonde hair. Then, perhaps she'd help her out and cut it out for her, taking large portions of her hair of course. Crowe flexed her hand on her desk, her knuckles cracking slightly, her two rings digging into her fingers. On her left index finger she wore a silver snake ring, its head worn soft from years of being stroked. On her left pinky was a handmade poison ring, the jewel in the center a rounded amethyst. She ran her fingertip across the snake head, willing herself to be calm. But oh Clarissa made it difficult.

The bell finally rang, signaling it was time for gym class. They were playing basket ball. Crowe was forced against her will to change and play as well, though she wasn't a good player. Naturally, Clarissa was perfect, and didn't even try to hide her showing off. As she sunk another basket, and Crowe fumbled to even dribble, the gym teacher suggested Clarissa help Crowe out, tutor her, so to speak in basket ball. The two girls glared at each other, blue eyes meeting hazel, the pure hatred very apparent.

Crowe picked up the ball, and tried once again to dribble. As she set up for a basket, Clarissa 'tripped' and slammed into her, grabbing a hold of her bracelet and shattering it. She looked down disdainfully at Crowe and the remains of her charms. "Like I'd ever help you out," she spat venomously and turned on her heel. Crowe struggled against the tears that threatened to spill over. _I will not cry. I will not cry! I WILL NOT CRY DAMN IT! _

Ollie was oblivious to the turmoil his daughter was going through. He sat up in the Tower, trying to occupy his time. He tried books, the computer, everything. But still he found himself jumping at the creaking of the house, the wind against the window, the hum and whir of the computer. When there was only about a half hour until Crowe got home from school, Ollie was ready to give up, ready to tell her everything and hope she didn't take it too badly, that she would understand. He was 'saved' from that by the air seeming to ripple in the middle of the room. Just like that the ghost with the most, the one and only Beetlejuice appeared.

"So, where's my bride to be? I wanna get this over and done with," Beetlejuce brushed dust from the sleeve of his black and white striped jacket. Ollie glared at him, "What took you so long?" "Truth? I forgot. Why's it matter?" Beetlejuice shrugged. "I've been waiting, wondering if I should tell her or not. Do you know how tense I've been?" Ollie snapped. "You haven't told her?" the ghost smirked evilly. "I didn't know how! It just…I didn't know how she'd deal with it," Ollie slumped over the desk, arms folded under his chin. "Well, I'm sure having it sprung on her like this will make it so much better," Beetlejuice snorted. "Don't you start in on me now," Ollie growled, shoving his hair out of his eyes. "Fine, fine…Pops."

"What's she like anyway?" Beetlejuice asked a few minutes later. "Crowe?" "Yeah. I mean, I'm marryin' her aren't I? Should learn a bit about her," he floated off the ground, lying on his back, arms folded behind his head. "Well, she looks almost exactly like her mom. She doesn't talk much though, for obvious reasons." They really weren't obvious reasons, but Beetlejuice wasn't keen on arguing. "Don't expect her to like you first off either. But, she's…she's such a good girl, but angry too. She blames herself mostly for…for the accident. I don't really know how to describe her, you'll just have to see for yourself."

Almost like it was choreographed, the door down stairs slammed open, and Crowe's voice, raised for once, reached Ollie in the Tower. "Daddy!!!!" "The Tower Crowe!" Ollie yelled back. Her footsteps sounded harshly in the stair way, and seconds later Crowe burst in, so consumed by her anger that she didn't notice Beetlejuice floating by the window. He watched her; amused, noting she did look a lot like Lyds, especially in her old red shawl, but for the hazel eyes. And Lyds had never, as far as he could recall, been this angry.

"I hate her daddy! I absolutely hate her! She…she broke my…my…bracelet!" Crowe's voice broke and she allowed herself a rare fit of tears, head hanging down, and shoulders shaking as sobs were wrenched from her throat. "Sweetie, Crowe, how did she break it? And is it so bad I can't fix it?" Ollie asked gently. He didn't even question who it was, for which she was grateful as she spread the pieces on his desk. "It doesn't look too bad. I'll see what I can do, ok?" he said soothingly. Crowe sniffed and nodded. Her eyeliner had run the tiniest bit, making her eyes seem huge. "C'mon, give us a smile," Ollie coaxed, grinning softly. Crowe tilted her head up, and managed a tiny smile. "There's my girl."

A hacking cough, more of an attention getter than a throat clearer sounded in the room, gaining both father and daughter's attention. "You gonna introduce us or what?"

Crowe turned her head slowly, like the first victim in a slasher flick when they realize the axe murderer is behind them and it's too late. There was no doubt in her mind that the guy who was _floating_ next to her dad was a corpse. Was dead. He was unnaturally pale, almost bluish, with deep blackish purple circles around his eyes. His hair was pale whitish blonde. But not like it was natural, more like it hadn't seen the sun in decades. And he was dressed in a suit striped in black and white with a magenta shirt underneath the suit jacket. He smirked at her, flashing filthy crooked teeth, and smoothed back his hair with red tipped fingers. "Dad? Uhh…why…who exactly…is he dead?" "Have been a while," the ghost answered. She shot him a glare and turned back to her dad. "Care to explain?" she said, a trace coldly, arms crossed over her chest. (And it was a _fine_ chest, Beetlejuice noticed, eyeing her salaciously.)

Ollie leaned back in his seat, trying to figure out how best to explain. He himself wasn't certain of all the facts, and to help, handed her a few pages of Lydia's diary. Over the years she'd written it, letting Ollie read some, but keeping most pass worded. "Here, your mom's diary," he handed her the pages. "Mom had a diary?" Crowe accepted the pages, skimming through them. "She talk about me a lot?" "How should I know, if I don't even know your name?" Crowe snapped. "It's Beetlejuice," Ollie interrupted, stopping the brewing argument. They'd barely known each other five minutes and were already fighting like an old married couple. And it brought a slight smile to his face that Beetlejuice had gotten Crowe to speak so much.

A disdainful snort sounded. "Are you serious? That's your name? Beetlejuice? What kind of a name is Beet-'' "Don't!" "Oh yeah. You can't say his name three times or it sends him away," Ollie informed Crowe. "Ok. That I can deal with for now," Crowe got up and started pacing. "So what you're saying, and what this diary is telling me, is that he used to be mom's best friend." "Used to be?!" "Shh!" "And, mom used to be something of a therapist for ghosts, and the ghosts didn't like it much when…when she…well, they got angry right. So, you, dad, you found your only option was to talk to him," she jerked her thumb at Beetlejuice, "to keep them away. And as payment, you married me off to him. All's that's left is the actual marriage." "That…sort of sums it up sweet heart," Ollie said slowly, thinking it over.

"What were you thinking?!?! Marrying me off to a corpse?! That was the best idea?" The pages of the diary fluttered to the floor. She leaned over the desk, glaring down at him the best she could. All he could think was that it had been quite a long time since he'd heard her speak so much. "Daddy! Are you even listening to me? You married me to a dead guy! Him! I mean, sure I've been known to tread on the darker side of life, however, I do not, _do NOT,_ marry it, cuddle with it, and…other married people things," Crowe swore. "Hey, consider those extra fun benefits," Beetlejuice cracked from where he was floating in the corner, inspecting his nails. "Absolutely not. No way, not in this lifetime or any other. I will agree to marry you strictly out of necessity, for my dad, but I refuse to share a bed with you," she said firmly.

"Where am I supposed to sleep then?" Beetlejuice asked indignantly. "How 'bout we build you a dog house in the back yard," Crowe suggested snidely. Before she could even chuckle at her own joke, he'd turned into a scraggly, scruffy dog striped in black and an odd orange. "Woof Babes," he leered up at her, greenish striped tongue lolling out of his mouth. Crowe bit back the comment that that was a rather nifty trick.

"So…you're ok with this then?" Ollie asked softly. "Not really, but I guess I understand where you're coming from. I may not like it, but…when do I have to do this?" "Well, I got a call earlier, they need me for a photo shoot in New York, I'll be gone a week, we'll go from there. That fine with you?" Ollie glanced down at the dog, who was scratching behind his ear. "Sure, whatever Pops. I can hang out here with her. She's just gotta take me for walkies, put fresh food in my bowl…" "You can_not_ stay here," Crowe growled. "Can so." "Dad!" "Dad," Beetlejuice mimicked. "Actually, can you give us a minute while I explain the rules to her?"Ollie defused the brewing argument that he figured would become a part of life for the two. Beetlejuice rolled his eyes but trotted out, still as a dog, tail wagging.

Crowe waited until he was gone before perching in the seat, looking intently at her dad. "So, the rules are, say his name three times to call or banish him. However, say this," and here he gave her a slip of paper with the phrase Lydia had often used, "to visit him in his world. He's not exactly stuck here, he's just being difficult. Mom said he was like that. But, I think it's a good idea to keep him here, get to know him. He was mom's best friend; he can't have been all that bad." "But daddy, he's all icky and corpsey. And mom probably brought out the best in him. I can't bring out the best in anybody," Crowe said, eyes downcast. "Well, I don't know about that, but I know he's gotten you to talk more than you have in eight years. Bit impressive don't you think?" Ollie grinned at her. She harrumphed. "Maybe. Do you really have to go? Can't the models get someone else to take their picture?" "'Fraid not Crowe. Part of being the best, models want you to take their picture on short notice. I'll be leaving early in the morning, so I won't see you. Be good, and try not to banish him too much. Try to get along." "No promises."

Ollie and Crowe parted until dinner, and she traipsed down to her room. Beetlejuice was still as a dog, sitting on the ground at the foot of her bed…licking himself in a rather personal area. "That's disgusting." He looked up, and stopped. "What? If you can reach, why not?" "Could you do it when I'm not around or something. Not much of a voyeur," she said airily. "What's in it for me?" he changed back and floated on his back above her head, arms pillowing his head. "I don't banish you?" "Daddy wouldn't like that though, would he?" Crowe looked up at him, smiling, knowing it wasn't a pleasant one. "If I give him a good enough reason, Daddy will let it go. Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!"

With a half formed snarl, Beetlejuice was gone. Unwisely, Crowe thought that settled it and she was safe for a while. She went into her bathroom, ready for a pre-weekend relaxing bath. She hung her shawl on the hook on the back of the door, brushed out her hair, and pulled off her tank top. She glanced in the mirror to scrub off her eyeliner, but it wasn't her face that met her. Instead, Beetlejuice was eying her. Crowe stumbled back with a yelp, pulling her shawl in front of her. "Don't cover up on my account Babes," he snickered, leaning out of the mirror. "How did you do that? What are you…get out! Now!" "You sure you don't want company?" "Out!" "Lyds always told me I should bathe." "I'm sure this isn't what she meant." "No, it's not, but, she was my best friend. You're gonna be my wife. We're gonna be close." "Get out now, or you're gonna be spending the honey moon bound and gagged and stuffed in the closet." "Is that a promise or a threat?" Beetlejuice asked eagerly. He faded through the door when she growled at him.

Crowe would have liked to think she was in the clear. However, she didn't trust him. Didn't matter if he was a friend of her mom's or not, he was an untrustworthy pervert with bad teeth and a beer belly. Definitely not attractive. Definitely not funny at all. And that tiny traitorous voice way in the back of her head whispered something about a case of the lady protesting too much, that he was at least funny. A little. A tiny minuscule bit. Either way, she put her bath on hold and took a quick shower. She wrapped herself in her red terry cloth robe afterward, and stalked into her room for her pajamas. Beetlejuice was hovering in the air once more, humming to himself. She snatched her clothes and went back into the bathroom to braid her hair and change. A wolf whistle sounded as she went back into the room. "Do I get a peek at what's under the shirt?" Beetlejuice asked. Crowe lifted the edge of her shirt the tiniest bit, showing the cherry red shorts she wore under her black T-shirt, which read 'It's all fun and games until somebody loses and eyeball, then it's hey! Free eyeball!' She stuck her tongue out at him and threw herself on her bed and curled up with her stuffed cow, christened McMuffin.

"What's up with the cow?" "Mom gave him to me when I was five. He's my favorite, next to Axl." "Axl?" Crowe reached over and plucked the rat from his tank. "Axl. My best friend," she held him up to show Beetlejuice. Axl climbed up her arm and nuzzled against her neck, whiskers twitching and tickling her ear. "I was a better best friend," he said petulantly. "Oh yeah? Why's that?" "'Cause I can do this," Beetlejuice hung upside down right in front of her, and spun his head around rapidly, his body remaining motionless. "Yeah, that's cool and all, but you don't have these cute little whiskers or ears," Crowe trailed her fingertip down Axl's back. "Who'd wanna be that cute anyway?" "I know you'll find this shocking, but some people find cute things attractive. However, there are different opinions about what is cute. While I find Axl cute, others find him disgusting. But just look at him," Crowe went nose to nose with the rat, who licked her nose, making her laugh, while Beetlejuice gagged.

Crowe pulled out the pages from Lydia's diary, reading them until dinner. "Did she mention how we almost got married once?" Beetlejuice peered over her shoulder. "What?" "I'll take that as a no. Yeah, once, so I could help out a few ghost pals of hers. Back when I first met her," he explained, grinning at the memory. "Gee, thanks, like I wasn't uncomfortable about this enough," Crowe muttered sarcastically. "Just trying to make conversation." "Well don't ." "I won't then." "Good…but, d'you…like, maybe you could tell me about my mom?" Beetlejuice glanced down at her curiously, how she looked so uncertain. "Not now I mean. But, sometimes, I can't remember everything about her. And you knew her really well; maybe, you could help me remember sometimes?" She looked up hopefully. "Sure Babes, any time." "Thanks. Dinner?" "Yeah, sounds…good."

_A/N: thought I'd end on some fluff. I'm figuring in appearance, here, Beetlejuice is more like the cartoon, but his personality is more like a combo of movie and cartoon. Not that important for you to know, just thought I'd share. I had to stop here or this chapter would have gone on and on and on. And I just could do that. So, look for the next chapter in the near future ok?_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: I'm making killer progress with this fic I'd say. But then again, I typed it way before I ever loaded it onto the computer. So it was just sitting there waiting. And even before that, I'd written it up, and this is just a re-tooling of it. Me and my friend worked on it and fixed it up. And some of the jewelry and stuff that Crowe has I actually do have. Like her two rings. I like to add random stuff like that, it's just a little author trademark I guess^^_

Crowe and her dad watched in near horror and repulsion as Beetlejuice ate his hamburger, turning green from the slurping crunching noises he made. He'd added beetles to his burger, and started to devour it. It was bad enough that she felt bad for the beetles, but the way he was eating, with absolutely no manners, was making her sick. "Daddy," she whimpered. "Crowe, if you don't want to eat right now, I completely understand," Ollie answered. "'Kay. Thanks," she pushed her plate away as Beetlejuice let out a belch and leaned back in his seat, sated. "Good eats Pops," he complimented. "So glad you liked it. I've got to go pack Crowe; will you be all right for the night?" "I should be fine daddy. G'night, and I'll see you in a week," Crowe kissed Ollie on the cheek and went back to her room.

"So, what's to do for fun around here Babes?" Beetlejuice asked, hovering in the air, as seemed to be his favorite thing. "Y'know, I have a name. It's Crowe. I'd prefer you call me by my name instead of 'Babes'," Crowe ignored his question coldly. "Lyds always let me call her Babes," he grumbled. "You guys were best friends though. We," she gestured between herself and him, "are not. I'd like you to call me Crowe." "You ever hear about old dogs and new tricks?" the ghost asked. "Yeah." "I'm a very old dog. I saw the Black Plague. I'm used to calling girls 'Babes'. Just 'cause you want me to call ya something else ain't gonna make it happen. So I'd just get used to it." "But-'' "No, Babes, it's not gonna happen. And seriously, is it all that bad? I could be so much worse," he smirked at her. She sighed, "I really have no say do I?" "Nope." "All right, I can deal. Like you said, it could be worse. It's just a word. So what do I call you? Unless you have no objection to 'hey you! Dead guy!'?" Crowe said lightly. "Funny. Lyds always called me Beetlejuice, but she was careful not to say it three times unless she meant it. Or she called me Beej, B, or BJ."

"I guess I'll call you Beej. Or BJ. I like it better than B. Just one letter? Sounds a little ridiculous to me, and BJ sounds kinda cool," she felt like she was trying to come up for a name for a new pet. Which in a really strange way she was. "Anyway, what we do for fun here? I don't do much. In case you hadn't noticed, I have no friends. I mostly stay up here, or wander about town with my camera and sketch book. I actually have work tomorrow." "Work?! You work? Well, I guess someone's gotta be the bread winner," he held up a loaf of bread with a blue ribbon on it. "Visual humor, ya know I love it," he snorted.

"Uh-huh. And yeah, I work at this bookstore at the mall, it's got a coffee shop, and I work the cash register there, and my dad works at the photography store there, that sells film equipment and develops pictures. Sometimes though, he gets called in for photo shoots. He drives me, though I don't know how I'll get there tomorrow," Crowe said softly. "Don't you drive?" "I'm too scared to drive. I don't even have my permit. I tried once to get behind the wheel, and I panicked. I couldn't do it. I just…I kept seeing…her. And I couldn't breathe. So I never learned to drive," Crowe buried her face into McMuffin, getting a panicked feeling just thinking about driving.

"It's not your fault though Babes," Beej interrupted her thoughts. "Huh?" "The accident, it's not your fault. How could I be? Not like you were the one driving." "But, it is my fault. If I hadn't made her keep her promise of a mom-daughter trip to the movies, none of it would have happened. It's all my fault," Crowe once more felt tears burning behind her eyes, like always when she thought about the accident. "But, you didn't make your mom do that. If I know Lyds, and I like to think I do, she would've done anything for her kid," Beetlejuice said logically. "So what, it's her fault?" Crowe snapped angrily. "No! No, it's the other guy's fault. They're the ones that flipped over and caused the mess. You two just got caught up in it. Nothing you did caused it, and you couldn't have prevented it. It just happened y'know? A freak thing," he shrugged. Crowe wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, blinking up at him. He looked back at her, confused about the crooked little grin she had.

"Why're you being so nice to me?" Crowe asked. "And tell the truth." Beej looked thoughtful for a few seconds, one hand stroking his chin. "I guess mostly 'cause you look just like Lyds, and I could never stand to see her cry. She won a lot of arguments with just the threat of tears and sending me away." Crowe snickered softly, "You're a softy! You act all lecherous and mean, but you really cared about my mom, didn't you?" "What part of 'best friends' is so hard to grasp here Babes?" "The friends bit. Bit hard to explain to someone the concept of something they never had," Crowe retorted. "Aw c'mon. Everyone knows what friends are, whether they have them or not. And you seem smart, you know what the concept is," Beetlejuice crossed his arms, like that was the end of it. "Oh I _seem_ smart do I? Well I am actually smart, a genius some might say," she said smugly. "All I can say is at least you aren't a complete airhead. I've had my fill of those in Clare Brewster," he said. "You knew Clare? I've heard about her. I've got my own version. Clarissa Avery. Then there are her minions, Denise Simmons and Rachel Peterson, who don't have enough brains between them to fill a shot glass. And Dwayne…Clarissa's boyfriend, star quarterback and captain of the football team." Beetlejuice looked at Crowe as she said Dwayne's name. "You laaaiiike him!" "I did, once, before she snatched him away. Now though, all he cares about is winning the game and whether Clarissa's gonna let him into her panties. Blech," she shuddered.

"So, what, they give you trouble?" "A lot of it. For no reason other than I'm different. See, if it was just Denise and Rachel, I could handle it. They're not smart enough to give me too much trouble. But Clarissa, see, she's actually sort of smart." "Not as smart as you though, right?" Beej said sarcastically. "Of course. That's a given. And she messes with me in a multi level way. It's annoying. I try so hard to ignore it but sometimes…sometimes it's difficult." "Know what ya mean," Beej floated down until he hovered an inch or two above her bed, cupping his chin in his hands. "How so?" "Well…let's just say I'm not exactly popular among my neighbors." "Oh no? I simply can't imagine why," Crowe said bitingly. "Hey, you wanna hear about it or not?" "Is this a trick question?" "Jesus Babes, I'm trying to make conversation and you're making it difficult." "Sorry, I'll listen. Go on," she motioned with her hands that he was free to speak.

"Thanks. So, anyway, yeah, they seem to find me annoying and think I'm a pest and that I shouldn't be allowed to stay in the Neitherworld. The whole stinkin' place thinks that. Couple of times I was almost banished, which would be really bad." "Why are you scared of being banished?" Crowe asked. "I'm not scared!" "You so were Beej. I could tell. C'mon, fess up. I'll tell you the one other thing that scares me," she said, wheedling. She was curious after all. "Really? Something else scares you? You mean besides driving?" She nodded. "All right," he glanced around like someone was listening. "Sandworms. Big giant worms that have sharp teeth, four eyes and for some reason find me tasty." "Must have no taste buds then," Crowe muttered. "I dunno. You wanna find out if I taste good or not?" Beetlejuice leered at her, waggling his eyebrows. "No. Absolutely not." "You're no fun." "If that's your idea of fun, then nope, I'm not. Get used to it." He grumbled under his non-existent breath, muttering curses. After a minute, he turned back to face her, "So, what're you afraid of?" Crowe groaned softly, berating herself for suggesting it. "…Clowns. I'm terrified of clowns." "Clowns?" Beetlejuice sniggered, and then burst into laughter.

"Don't laugh at me!" Crowe smacked him with a pillow. "Sorry Babes, but clowns? Seriously?" "They creep me out. I can't explain it. My dad got one for my birthday party once when I was really little, and something about him…his laugh, he smelled funny, and the balloon animals popped in my face, I screamed and hid behind mom until my dad sent him away. I can't deal with them… Will you stop laughing?!" Beetlejuice had landed on the bed, only to slide off laughing. He looked up at her from the floor. "If you even think about turning yourself into a clown, I'll tell you one thing for certain, you're gonna have one hell of a lonely honeymoon," she vowed. "You wouldn't dare," he said arrogantly. "Oh wouldn't I? Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice. Beetle-'' he clapped his hand over her mouth in near panic. Her eyes widened and she struggled as she got a whiff of him. He pulled away, smirking at her gagging. "You…you smell awful! Ick, I swear, I can taste it!" "Hey, I worked a long time to smell like this!" he protested. "You're gross. And before you take it as a compliment, I mean it in a bad way." "I'm taking it as a compliment anyway," Beej shrugged. Crowe made a face as she tried to get the taste of the grave and general lack of bathing out of her mouth.

"I'm bored," Beetlejuice whined after a while. "That's nice," Crowe turned the page of the book she was reading. She felt a small icy draft as Beetlejuice transformed again, this time as a small scrawny cat striped in black and white. "Play with me," he demanded. "How'm I supposed to play with you?" "I hafta do everything don't I?" he waved his small paw and a ball of yarn appeared in her lap. She looked between him and the yarn. "Do I gotta draw you a diagram?" he asked, flicking his ears, annoyed. "No, I'm just wondering why you'd choose to play as a kitten," she tentatively stroked his ears, grinning at the purr that sounded. "I'm not a kitten. I'm a tom cat! I'm fierce," he groomed his tail. "You're a kitten. Look at you, you're adorable! Oh!" she covered her mouth, flushing. He gave a wide, self satisfied smirk, tiny fangs flashing. "Adorable huh?" "Only in your present form," she shot back. "Harsh Babes, real harsh," his ears flattened, and despite herself, Crowe felt bad and apologized. "Sorry Beej," she pet his head again. "So why a kitten?" "Would you really play with me if I wasn't this cute?" "No, I guess not. I thought you hated cute though?" "I'll deal outta boredom," he gave a tiny cat shrug. "Now c'mon Babes, pull out some yarn and play with me!"

Roughly an hour later, Crowe's entire room was bedecked in red and black yarn. She herself was twisted in it, as was Beetlejuice, who was hissing at the length twisted around his tail, pulling on it. He tried slashing at it with claws, only to get more caught up until he hung about a foot off the ground. He sagged in defeat. "Do you need some help?" Crowe asked. "I guess so. I'm stuck," he said resignedly. Crowe picked her way across the room, trying not to trip on yarn until she reached Beej. "Careful Babes, it's stuck on my tail," he warned. "Just a bit more, move your paw…there," she held him in her arms. He purred loudly, and turned greenish yellow eyes up to her. "Y'know, a ghost could get used to this," he nuzzled against her chest. She dumped him on her bed in disgust. "You're a pig." He transformed into a grey pig with black spots, squealing at her. She gave him a stony look. He went back to normal. "You can't tell me that wasn't the tiniest bit funny." "Yes, I can."

The door cracked open. "Crowe, everything ok in here?" "Fine daddy," Crowe shot Beetlejuice a glare. "I could've sworn I heard a pig squeal," Ollie looked around like maybe they were harboring a barn yard. "That was this one. I accused him of being a pig, so he naturally became one." "Right. Well, it's getting late, you should get some sleep. You've got work tomorrow don't forget. Will you be able to get there?" "Yeah, I'll take the bus or something. No worries. Good night daddy," Crowe said. "Good night Crowe…Good night to you to." "Night Pops," Beetlejuice called from the bed.

"So, where'm I bunking down?" Beetlejuice looked around the room. "The floor," Crowe answered, straightening the sheets and blankets on her bed. "What? I thought we'd share the bed." She gave him a look like 'You've got to be kidding me.' He transformed into the dog once more, and turned begging eyes on her, whining and whimpering. "How can you say no to this face? Have a heart Babes." Crowe tried, she really did, to ignore the puppy eyes and the sad pathetic whimpering. But it was impossible. "Fine, you can sleep at the foot of my bed, but only if you stay like that, as the puppy." "I'm not a pup-oh fine, I'm a puppy. So I can sleep here?" he bounced around on the bed, panting and yipping and chasing his scruffy tail. Crowe giggled despite her annoyance at him.

Crowe turned the lights down, and burrowed under the blankets, pulling them up around her shoulders. "Watch where you're kicking!" Beej yelped. "Good night Beej." "How can I sleep when you just kicked me in the-'' "I'll kick you off the bed if you don't shut up and go to sleep." Crowe fell asleep listening to Beetlejuice grumble to himself.

The alarm sounded later than on a school night, but still early for a Saturday, causing Beetlejuice to shout in surprise, and tumble off the bed, forgetting he had paws and scrambling for a hold on the sheets. He transformed back to himself, glaring at Crowe through a veil of his blonde hair. "Problems Beej?" "Why the hell are you getting up this early?" "Work. I gotta get there on time," Crowe explained, and let out a chuckle. "Now what?" he mumbled. "You've got fuck hair," she answered, grinning. "Does daddy know you use words like that?" "No, but you wouldn't tell, would you?" "I don't know. I might need some initiative to keep it to myself, besides an explanation." "I'll let you come to work with me if you can hide yourself," Crowe offered. "Ok then. Now, explanation?" "You've got hair that looks like you just got laid, it's all frizzy and mussed, I mean, more than what I assume is the usual for you." "You tryin' to say something Babes," Beej frowned. "Maaaybe," Crowe said innocently. "Like what?" "Nothing," she slid out of bed and over to her closet. Beetlejuice appeared as a jacket hung up in the closet, "Babes, c'mon, what're you saying?" "That you're hair is messy, and I assume that's how it usually is." Beetlejuice became himself and slicked back his hair. "I like it like that." "I'm sure you do. Now, if you don't mind, I've got to take a shower and get ready for work. You can just sit out here," Crowe gathered her clothes and went into the bathroom.

Beetlejuice perched on the foot of the bed for all of about five minutes, listening to the water running in the bathroom. He poofed into the bathroom, mentally cursing when he made a small sound. "Hello?" Crowe asked. He bit his lip, staying silent. He disappeared once more and then peered as a tiny reflection in the shower sprayer. Sure he was awfully close to water, but he had a decent view. Crowe washed her hair, soaped up, rinsed, all without knowing he was watching, shoulders shaking in an effort not to laugh and wolf whistle. And just before she stepped out and covered up that body with a towel (which was a crime in his opinion), he disappeared back into her bedroom. She needn't ever know he'd gotten a free show. Which was good seeing as if she ever found out, she'd make every effort to kill him, and it would be painful.

"What are you laughing at now?" Crowe asked, staring down at Beetlejuice with hands on her hips. "N-nothing Babes. Nothing that concerns you," he chuckled and sat up, his eyes widening. Now that was hardly fair, the way she'd dressed, being a tease without even realizing it. Her tight black jeans hung low on her hips, hugging them in all the right places. Silver chains hung from the belt loops, looking like fallen suspenders. An inch or so of her belly showed between the top of her pants and the bottom of her sleeveless, strapless black and white plaid corset, starkly pale against all the blackness. She'd braided her hair into two long, thick braids with white bows on the ends, and lined her eyes in black and white. A shiny black spider hung from a chain around her neck, and her rings glittered on her fingers.

Beetlejuice blinked as the fingers snapped in front of his face. "What?" "I asked if you were ready to go, and how you plan on hiding yourself," Crowe shrugged into a hoodie. "Oh. Like this," he disappeared, and Crowe felt a weight on her right wrist. A diminutive black and white snake winked a yellow eye at her and showed his tiny fangs. "It's like living in a menagerie with you," she muttered. "Are we gonna have breakfast?" he stood in front of her once more. "Are you going to put bugs on it again?" "Yeah. Tastes better that way. Why?" "…Never mind, just, try not to make so much noise when you eat. I feel bad for the little things." "They're just bugs Babes, there's plenty of'em in the world. I'm doing the world a favor really, keeping down the bug population; otherwise they'd take over right?" "I guess. I still feel bad though." "Well, don't." "I can't help how I feel Beej." "Why not?" "I just can't. It's as simple as that." "But it's not simple." "Drop it Beetlejuice." "But…" "No."

He let it go, seeing as there were far better ways to entertain himself without arguing with Crowe. Like snatching at the chains hanging from her jeans. She didn't like that, and slapped at his hands while trying to not fall down the stairs. "Beej, leave the chains alone or I'm gonna chain you up and leave you here!" "So?" "What d'you mean so?" "You gotta come back some time and take care of me, and who's to say I won't mind being chained up?" he turned a lascivious smirk on her. "You're such a pain in the ass. Seriously. It's not even ten in the morning yet. Can't you at least let me have some coffee?" "If you make me some, sure." "Y'know, I don't know why I bother. You're just going to start again later. Were you this annoying with my mom?" "I could be, I admit. But I'm extra annoying, just for you Babes." "I'm honored. C'mon, let's go."

"I bet I could help you," Beej drained his coffee, "on your way to work. If you wanted that is." "How?" Crowe put the dirty dishes in the sink. "My own personal mode of transport. Not a car, but I do actually have one. He probably misses me." "He?" "Doomie, my dragster. So, interested?" "What is it, the 'poof' thing?" Crowe asked. "Yeah, the poof thing," Beetlejuice rolled his eyes and stood up. "All right. Is it safe for me? I mean, it's not like driving right?" "Nah, it's safe. Me an' Lyds went around like this all the time. Never hurt her. You wanna try it?" "I could give it a try. Just make sure we don't appear where people will see us." "Duh Babes. Even I could figure that out. Now step up," he held open his arms.

Hesitantly, Crowe walked up and stepped into Beetlejuice's arms, against his chest. His arms wrapped around her, and she felt the air squeezed around her. Unbidden, she twined her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. He looked down and laughed out loud at her. When the ground felt steady under her feet, she looked up and around. They were in an alley between the parking structure and a small pizza restaurant. "I really, really don't like that. I don't wanna do that again until I have to. Ok?" "Fair enough Babes. You gonna let me go now?" Beej touched her arms. "Oh, yeah, sure. Sorry," Crowe pried her arms from around him and stepped back. He hadn't minded, but he knew she wouldn't like it. She didn't seem to like him much, but then, Lyds had never told her about him. Maybe if she had, they could be friends. Maybe they could still be friends either way. That wouldn't be so bad. Then marriage wouldn't have to be hell for both of them.

Crowe waited to get her bearings back before entering the mall. Beetlejuice had become the snake on her wrist once more, and gave every appearance of being asleep. But she knew he wasn't. That would be too accommodating, and that wasn't what he was about. He would hide for her, but that was about as far as he would take it. About as far as his attention span would hold more like. She only wondered what would happen when she had to go back to school on Monday.

"Hi Crowe," a soft voice greeted her. It was her co-worker, Nate, of the shaggy, soft, dark brown hair, warm blue eyes, and easy smile. Crowe, as usual, felt her heart skip a beat, which wasn't unnoticed by Beetlejuice. As close as he was wrapped around her wrist, he felt her pulse speed up and her palm start to sweat a little bit. He reared up, getting a good view of what caused it, giving the boy the once over. He snorted, he wasn't a threat, all tall and gangly, a pinched look, like he'd gone through a growth spurt and hadn't quite caught up to himself. But Crowe was looking at him like he was the freakin' Holy Grail. Not cool.

"Hi Nate, what's up?" Crowe answered, pleased at the lack of trembling in her voice. At that moment, she forgot all about her impending marriage, about the ghost wrapped around her wrist, everything. Nate stared at her, eyes wide. "What? Why're you staring at me?" Crowe asked, worried her eyeliner was smeared badly, or her hair was a mess. "You've never actually responded to me before. Just a nod or something. What gives? Not that I'm complaining or anything, you've got a really nice voice," he gave a self deprecating grin, to which Crowe responded with a small giggle.

Beetlejuice gagged. Teenage flirting, he hated it. In all the time he'd known Crowe, which he admitted wasn't long at all; he never would've expected her to fall for such a schmaltzy line. Though he had to agree, she did have a good voice, one he wouldn't have minded listening to over the phone while engaged in rather…personal activities. Beej smirked to himself, and had Crowe chosen to look down, she would've known he was thinking nefarious thoughts and there was nothing she could do about it. There had to be some way to liven up this party (and no, the irony wasn't lost on him that a dead guy was livening up anything). And he had just the thing.

Crowe got so engrossed in her work, and the little glances and grins Nate was throwing her way, she didn't notice a weight sliding from her wrist to drop to the floor. Beetlejuice winced as he hit Crowe's sneaker and the floor. He may've been dead, but it still hurt to land that hard. But he kept his goal in mind, and ignored the pain. Wasn't that bad anyway. He shook his head and started to slither up to perch on her shoe. With the tip of his tail, he lifted the hem of her jeans, before shrinking himself down even smaller. He wrapped himself around her ankle to start, not moving too quick. If he did, she'd notice and he'd be in big trouble before he even got to have some fun. He had to grip tight though, or he'd fall off while she moved about.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee wrapped around the small shop, and Crowe longed for break time, when she could grab a cup for herself, maybe a muffin, and pull up a table to read and people watch. But she had hours to go before then, unfortunately. The thought that maybe Nate would join her for break was almost tortuous. On the one hand, that would be the best thing to ever happen to her, that someone, let alone a boy, let alone a _cute_ boy, cared enough to want to hang out with her. On the other hand, what would she say, what if she couldn't speak again? What if she was just flying high on false hope and he wasn't interested? What if this was all an illusion, a game, like the Matrix? Though that did have Keanu Reeves, and that wasn't entirely a bad thing. Still…what does one say to a cute boy over coffee? What she wouldn't give to have her mom there to help her. Daddy was good for most stuff, but things like boys, well, that's when a girl really needs her mom. But she was forced to climb over this mountain alone. No Fellowship of cute elves and rangers to help her out here.

Beetlejuice waited until Crowe was moving about quickly, taking orders and delivering food. She wouldn't notice him slinking and winding his way up her leg, taking care to pay attention to how smooth it was, and how it smelled like some flowery vanilla soap. It was something he could get used to, he decided. He felt the exact moment when Crowe realized where he was. She stiffened and her pulse raced, not like when she looked at Nate, but more scared and maybe…and this could've been wishful thinking on his part…maybe just a little excitement.

_He wouldn't. Not while I'm at work. No way. Even he wouldn't…_Crowe's thoughts jumbled together as she looked at both wrists, and saw no snake masquerading as a bracelet on either. She felt something…something which felt suspiciously like a forked tongue flicking against her inner thigh. And a blunt little head nuzzling against where her panties rested against her leg. She swallowed a scream of annoyance, and a string of curses. She would've liked nothing more than to reach into her jeans and wring his scaly little neck. Sure it wouldn't kill him, but it would make her feel better.

"Crowe? You ok? You're eyes are all big," Nate asked concernedly. "I'm fine," Crowe said, trying to sound normal as Beetlejuice trailed his tail tip up and down her leg in what she was sure he felt was a seductive manner. It wasn't. "I just got a text from my dad, startled me is all," she gave Nate a grin, hoping it conveyed _silly me, getting startled over that_, instead of _back off so I can kill my already dead future husband._ She pulled out her cell phone, pretending to read it. "Damn. I gotta call him. I'll be back in a bit, ok? I think I'll stop into Hot Topic on break." "Ok. If you got time, maybe we can grab a coffee before we go back to work. If you want to that is," he looked hopeful. "I'll try. Save a seat for me," she waved and walked off as quickly as she could to Hot Topic, grabbing something to pretend to try on so she could yell at Beej in the changing room. Thankfully, the music was loud as it always was.

Oh when she got her hands on that ghost, he was going to pay. With interest.

_A/N: yet again, I had to cut this chapter off short, otherwise it would have just gone on. Not the best place to end it, but I figured it as long enough, and I can make up for it by posting the next chapter right after this. So no worries. Reviews are always appreciated. Mucho thanks._


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: y'know, I haven't mentioned up 'til now, but clearly I don't own anything but the obvious OC's. I just take the owned characters out to play on occasion. Hopefully the people who own them, one of which I know is Tim Burton, don't mind and don't plan on legal action. I really can't afford that._

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?!" Crowe held onto Beetlejuice's tie, pulling them nose to nose. "What? I don't think I did anything wrong. I'm not the one committing a-dul-te-ry," Beetlejuice drew the word out, making it mocking. He slipped from her grasp, and smoothed his tie down.

"Adultery?" Crowe made it a question. "Yeah, that flirting thing you were doing with the scarecrow back there. We're getting married Babes. As in you only make eyes like that at me. Not him," Beej glared down at her. "Excuse me, we aren't married yet Beej. I can make eyes at whoever I want to. You can't stop me," she crossed her arms, returning his glare. "I think we sorta proved that I can just now. Otherwise we wouldn't be here would we?" now he was grinning triumphantly. "Yeah, about that. You ever do anything like that again, uninvited, and I'll castrate you in the most painful way I can think of." "Castrate? Like, what, fix, like a dog at the vets?" Crowe nodded solemnly. A small squeak sounded from his throat. And it was true it was petty, but Crowe couldn't help being pleased at his discomfort.

Crowe waited while the song faded from one and crept up into the next before speaking again. Didn't need to be heard talking to herself. Once the song had built up into a crescendo of fast guitars and heavy drums, all intermingled with the harshly melodic voice of the lead singer, she continued her argument. "We were just starting to get along well too Beej! I was thinking we would at least become friends. Now you've gone and messed it up," she pouted. Not the fake pout she used when she wanted something, a real one, one that showed she was actually upset. "So we aren't do I care?" Beej snorted disdainfully, and regretted it a second later. But he was angry at her for yelling at him, and the boy for thinking he could hit on Babes with him right there. The thought that the boy couldn't see him didn't cross his mind. And he was only angry about the boy strictly because Crowe had been promised to him. Not because maybe he sort of did want to be her friend at least. He had been lonely without Lyds and she was like but unlike Lyds. He did like her; she took whatever he dished out and returned it with just as much vigor and sarcasm. It was entertaining, and maybe a little attractive.

The look Crowe gave Beetlejuice made him duck his head apologetically. But it was too little too late. "So you don't care if we're friends huh? Fine, you can go back to the Neitherworld. And stay there. I don't care how long, and how much you want out. You can get eaten by sandworms for all I care," she said viciously. She meant for her words to hurt, thus they were sharpened to a point and aimed straight at him, piercing him. "But…uh…Babes…how're you gonna get home?" Beej chanced using his pet name for her, hoping it wouldn't piss her off more. Luckily, she had wrapped her anger around herself, and wasn't paying attention to silly little things like pet names. "I'll ask Nate for a ride home. And don't even say anything about me hating to be in cars. I know that. But if it's a choice between you and the car, I choose the screaming metal death trap. Beetlejuice," she started.

"Babes, wait…"

"Beetlejuice…"

"I didn't…"

"Beetlejuice!"

"Mean it!"

He disappeared, and Crowe stormed out of the changing room back to work. Nate watched her from the small table he'd been sitting at as she tied on her apron, hands fumbling with the strings, near violently tossing her braids over her shoulders. She glared at the cash register as if it had offended her, and her hands were jammed into her pockets, her foot tapping nervously. "You all right?" he asked hesitantly. "Well, I talked to my dad," she started, almost forgetting what she'd told him. "He's fine. But my friend, BJ, gave me a call. He was supposed to come up for the week to hang out…now he's not. Third time he'd done this. Came up with some stupid story…it's just aggravating," she tucked her bangs behind her ears and twirled one of her braids around her finger. Lying was easy, she discovered, as long as she didn't look directly at Nate, if she played the part of dejected friend well.

"New friend huh? Where's he from?" Nate put a teasing quality into his voice, obviously determined to cheer her up. "Not what you think," she grinned, letting him try to make her feel better. "We hardly get to see each other, we used to be close. His mom and mine were friends a long time ago. I sort of miss him I guess. Anyway, could you…d'you think you could give me a ride home? My dad's at a photo shoot, and I don't drive really," she gave a cute little _silly me_ grin, looking up through her lashes, thinking that this whole flirting thing was easier than she'd thought. "Of course I can. No worries there Crowe. Just point me in the right direction and I'll getcha there," Nate answered, tossing his head to get his hair out of his eyes. Crowe watched it like it was in slow-mo, how his hair fell in soft shaggy waves, a few strands still drifting about his face. Her hands nearly ached to brush them from his face, and she forced them into a fist to resist. She would _not_ embarrass herself like that. But she was starting to get the feeling that this was more than a simple little high school crush. Not even when she'd had a crush on Dwayne had she felt such a longing to spend all her time with him, as she did with Nate. It frightened and exhilarated her all at once, and she couldn't decide if she liked the feeling or not.

Beetlejuice paced around the Living-Dead Room in his house, hands jammed into his pockets, brow furrowed. She didn't mean it. She wouldn't keep him here, or feed him to sandworms. Not even Lydia had done something like that. She hadn't been cruel. Damn it, he hadn't meant to hurt her feelings! But as was often the case, he didn't think before he talked. And now he was stuck here, and bored, and lonely. He'd had far too much of that since Lydia had…since she was gone. Sighing angrily, he tossed himself on the couch and stared at the ceiling, clinging to the hope that Crowe was as soft hearted as Lyds and would forgive him soon.

He was drifting off to sleep when all too familiar and most unwelcome tapping sounded from above. "Hey Beetlejuice!" "Oh…hey Ginger," he rolled over, facing away from her into the room. He so did not want this right now. Not on top of everything else. If he didn't find a way to fix things with Crowe and at least be her first and only friend, marriage to her would not be fun. "What's the matter?" the spider asked, dropping to the floor to look at him, a frown on her face. He debated whether to tell her or not. But then again, she was a girl, albeit one of the arachnid variety, with eight legs, and could maybe give him a bit of insight. Who else could he talk to anyway? Even if he didn't care much for her.

"You could say…I'm having Babes trouble," he said grudgingly. "You mean girl trouble? You gotta girlfriend Beetlejuice?" Ginger smiled up at him. "Fiancée actually," he sat up, getting into telling the story now. "Who is it?" Ginger hopped up on the couch.

"Lydia's daughter."

"Lydia's daughter?!" Ginger's voice screeched against Beetlejuice's ears, making him grit his teeth. "Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, how did this happen anyway?" "What 'appened?" Jacques peered around the corner, a dumbbell in his bony hand. "Beetlejuice is getting married!" Ginger answered before the ghost in question could answer himself. "Truly Be-atlejoose? Why did you not tell us? You should throw a bachelor party," Jacques strolled into the room and sat down in the recliner. "Yeah! Jacques could throw the bachelor party, and I could throw the bachelorette party. But you gotta bring her here first. Introduce us," Ginger urged, nudging at Beej with three of her legs.

Beej sighed, sliding a hand through his dingy hair. "I would but…I sorta screwed up. I was getting to that before you interrupted. And for the record, no, I'm not exactly sure of this. But if you'll let me talk, I'll tell you what's up." "'Kay. Go ahead," Ginger settled in, as did Jacques. "So, you know how Lyds got married, had a kid, that sort of thing, and was helping some ghosts cross over, deal with being dead, whatever. Well, when…when she…d-died," he gulped audibly, forcing himself to say it. Forcing himself to accept it. But oh it was hard. "When she died, her patients I guess you could say weren't really happy 'bout it. And they pitched a fit of epic proportions. Ollie, or as I call him 'Pops' called me in and struck a deal. I keep the ghosts out and Crowe, that's his daughter, marries me. And we were doing pretty good, getting to be friends I think, when I went and tore it all up. And…maybe I feel a little bad. I didn't mean to hurt her feelings. It's 'cause she looks just like Lyds!" he wailed and tugged at his blonde locks.

Ginger laid a consoling hand on Beetlejuice's arm. "It's alright Beetlejuice. Lydia always forgave you. Crowe will too," she said optimistically. "No she won't. She isn't like Lyds that much. She's cynical and has this temper on her, and she's sarcastic and she doesn't take anything I dish out, or she does and just gives it back. And she let me sleep on her bed, even though I just met her yesterday." Jacques and Ginger both gave him near identical surprised looks. "Not like that. Not even I'm that lucky. Nah, I was a dog. Like, literally, four legs and a tail. She said if I stayed like that I could sleep at the foot of her bed."

Jacques made a sound like a whip cracking, and snickered. "Ha ha, really funny bone head. I'm not whipped," Beetlejuice insisted. "Of course not," Ginger said, humoring him. "So what'd you do to wind up sent back here anyway?" "Uhh…well, see, she was flirting with some kid at her work, and I was hiding as a snake on her wrist. I thought it would be fun to liven things up, and sort of…crept up her pants leg. And then, well, she was yelling at me, and said we were almost friends until I did that, and I said I didn't care. So she sent me here and is getting a ride home with him. And I just figured out, she's gonna tell her dad and he's gonna be even more pissed than her. He liked that I could get her to talk, even if it was arguing," Beej hung his head. "What do you mean Be-atlejoose?" Jacques asked. "I mean Crowe doesn't really talk. I guess she didn't talk much since the accident. She was there. And I'm the first one she talked to. 'Til now," Beej answered.

"You really feel bad, don'tcha Beetlejuice," Ginger asked. "Ah, Ginger, it is like with Lydia. She was ze only one Be-atlejoose listened to, she who brought out ze best in him. Crowe is like Lydia in appearance, which ensnares him, and she is like him in personality, which he finds entertaining. He will be as he was with Lydia, nearly inseparable from his best friend," Jacques said dramatically. "You think?" Ginger said. "Y'know, I'm right here," Beetlejuice added sourly. "Oui, I think so. Look at him, he doesn't know it, but soon he shall be as devoted to Lydia's daughter as he was to Lydia." "So romantic," Ginger sighed, eyelids fluttering. Beetlejuice gagged next to them. "What are you waiting for then?" Ginger asked suddenly. "What?" "Go and apologize, and bring her here. Now!" "What? Why?" "You will feel better Be-atlejoose. And 'ow do you know she is not as regretful as you? Maybe she is just better at hiding it?" Jacques suggested. "You two aren't gonna leave me alone until I do are ya?" Beej asked. "Nope," Ginger said cheerfully. "No, we do not plan on such," Jacques added. "Great. Just great," he grumbled, hating the triumphant grins his neighbors wore.

Crowe released the hold she had on the side of the door of Nate's car, her hand cramped. "You ok?" he chuckled. "I don't do well in cars. It's nothing personal. Thanks for the ride," she grinned weakly. "No problemo. See you at work," Nate waved as he drove off. Crowe slowly walked the path up to her house, unlocking it. it was silent inside, almost too silent. A tiny little part of her had wished for Beetlejuice to greet her, yammering in her ear about nothing and everything all at once. Or maybe bound up as a dog, demanding to be taken for a walk. But it was only a tiny little part. She tossed her keys on the table and slid out of her shoes. She helped herself to a few cookies and plopped onto the couch. All she wanted to do was watch some mindless entertainment. Which is exactly what she got.

The TV flickered over Crowe's face, but instead of Punk'd, Beetlejuice grinned at her from the screen. "Hey Babes!" "What are you doing here? Get out of my TV! Now!" Crowe ordered coldly. "Wait a sec Babes, here me out," he protested. "No," she got up and turned off the TV. Instead, she decided to go up to her room and do some work on her Halloween costume. She was going to be Sally the ragdoll from Nightmare Before Christmas. She wasn't buying her costume either. She was making it by hand herself. It was actually looking very nice. She was proud of it. She turned up her radio, but even so, she could still here Beetlejuice as he appeared in the mirror in her bathroom. "Babes, c'mon, I got something to say!" he yelled. Crowe tried valiantly to ignore him, but the third time she stabbed herself with the sewing needle, she threw it down and stormed into the bathroom. Beej was a dog once more, howling dejectedly and pawing at the glass.

"Do you mind? I'm trying to sew in there," she snapped. "Sew what?" he answered, and laughed at his own bad pun. Crowe rose at him, displeasure evident on her face. "If you must know, I'm making my Halloween costume. I'm going trick-or-treating," she said haughtily. "Little old to be doing that ain'tcha Babes?" Beej asked, changing back to himself. "You're never too old to dress up and score free candy. Now what do you want?" "I…wanted…to…to apologize," he answered grudgingly. "Is that so?" Crowe snorted in disbelief. "It's true! I really did…do." "Why should I accept it?" she asked, arms crossed over her stomach. "Well, if you accept my apology, I can show you something really interesting," Beetlejuice smirked. Much against her will, Crowe found her curiosity winning against her anger.

"It's nothing…pervy is it?" she asked slowly. "Nothing that's gonna make me worried for my virtue…I mean, more worried than I am already, agreeing to marry you." Beetlejuice chuckled darkly. Crowe could read him about as well as Lyds had been able to. "Not on the first date Babes. I can be a nice gentleman when I want," he said. "Hah! I'll believe it when I see it," Crowe said sarcastically. "Oh yeah, watch this," Beej's face screwed up in concentration as he juiced himself to appear as a fine upper crust gentleman, complete with top hat and monocle. She giggled at him, "Just 'cause you look like one doesn't mean you are one. You couldn't stay like that if you wanted to, and you don't want to. All right, I'll bite. What do you want to show me?" "You gotta come here. To the Neitherworld." "How do I do that?" "Say the words." "Words? What words?" Beetlejuice sighed, trying to contain his annoyance and remember he was here to apologize, not fight once more. "Now, c'mon Babes, I know your dad told you the words to get to the Neitherworld." "Oh! Yeah, he did. My bad," Crowe cleared her throat and began.

"Though I know I should be wary, still I venture someplace scary. Ghostly hauntings I turn loose, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!"

A wild torrential wind whipped around Crowe, and she watched in fascination as her room expanded and turned into something that resembled more a castle or dungeon than her room. She certainly hoped it wasn't permanent as she looked up at the tattered bits of cloth hanging from wooden beams laden with bats. A staircase set into the wall wound upwards until it reached a door, which was the only way in or out. "Babes! You made it!" Beetlejuice stormed out of the door and raced down the stairs. "Am I in the Neitherworld now?" she asked. "Little slow on the uptake, aren'tcha? Does this look like your place?" "No but I thought I'd ask. I could just leave if you're gonna be mean," Crowe said sulkily. "Ok, ok, point taken, let's go," Beetlejuice grabbed her hand and tugged her up the steps.

Now, normally, Crowe would've focused on the steps and the tower, would've been really interested. However, at the time all she could think of was how surprisingly soft his hand was, and strong as it wrapped around hers, only a tiny bit bigger than hers. It was cold, but not uncomfortably so. She held on as he all but flew up the steps, her feet literally in the air behind her. "Beej, Beej, slow down! I don't like this! Please!" She yelped. He stopped abruptly and she crashed into him, gasping for breath. "So, my neighbors wanna meet you, but I got something better to show you first," he explained, hovering in the air a few inches off the ground. "What is it?" Crowe asked, trying to get her breath back. "You'll see. But trust me, you're gonna like it," he said, and landed with his boots on the ground. "Well, can we walk? I want to get a look around if that's not too much to ask," Crowe said, dusting herself off. "Sure, anything you want Babes," Beetlejuice offered her his arm. After a second hesitation, she took it, and let him lead the way up a winding path.

A thousand and eight questions filled Crowe's mind as they walked, and she wasted no time in asking as many as she could. Beetlejuice answered as truthfully as he could, or as honestly as he felt like. Until she asked again and again where they were going, slipping it in among her questions in hopes of tripping him up and getting him to tell her. But he was for once too clever for her and never let it slip until they reached the large black building.

"Lydia's Bootique? What's this?" Crowe asked, walking up to the door. "Your mom's old clothes store. She and her friends designed the clothes and I helped sell'em. Until she got too old, and sort of forgot," he trailed off softly. "Can we go in?" she asked, hoping to distract them both from the rather sad direction their thoughts were taking. "Yeah, sure, here I got it," he jerked open the door, sending up a cloud of dust. Crowe let out a high pitched sneeze, her eyes watering. "What?" she asked, her voice thick from her stuffed up nose. "Cute sneeze Babes," was all he said, still smirking. "Shut up and let me in." "Bossy thing aren't you?" "Maybe it's just you? You ever think of that?" "Huh. No, I guess not. But still…" "But nothing Beej, let's go in."

The clothes, despite being layered thickly in dust were still gorgeous. Crowe loved the original designs, and traced her hand across a cloak lying on the counter. Her mom had made it, made it with her own two hands. She balled it in her hand and clutched it to her chest, trying to picture her mom in her school uniform, stitching this together painstakingly, knowing it would all be worth it in the end. "Babes?" "Hmm? Oh, sorry, got caught up there. She made all these?" "Yeah…here," Beetlejuice aimed his hand at the cloak and the dust cleared, leaving it brighter than before, now revealed as being a bright green traced in black and silver. Upon closer inspection the black and silver were shown to trace out a spider web pattern similar to that on the red shawl. Beej took it and draped it over her shoulders, deciding it looked great with her hazel eyes. And as a show of how much he really meant his apology, he told her. She actually blushed. "Thanks Beej. Can I keep it then?" Crowe asked hopefully. "Well…I don't know…" "Please? Pretty, pretty please?" she stuck out her lower lip and gave him big eyes, batting her eye lashes. Beetlejuice growled, but not like he was mad. He had hated when Lyds had done that to him, and now he was getting it again. "All right. But I hate when chicks use that against me." "Use what Beej?" Crowe said innocently. "That whole bat your eye lashes, pouting cooing thing. Gets to me," he muttered. "Did I do that?" "Yeah, you did. But the cloak looks good, so it doesn't matter. You can come down here and check the clothes out anytime you want, just to let you know," he added. "Thanks. I might do that." "Well, I'd like if you came and visited me sometimes. If I'm here. Now, you wanna meet my neighbors?" "Lead the way."

"BJ's Roadhouse? You live here?" Crowe tilted her head back, surveying the house from a distance. "Yeah. You got a problem with it?" "No, I love it. honestly. It's one of the coolest houses I've seen here. So where are your neighbors?" "Inside. They sort of live with me, we all pay rent, that sort of thing." "Coolness. Oh, Beej, who's puppy is that?" Crowe looked to the little red dog across the street that had an odd shaped tail and two little curved horns on his head. "That's Poopsie, the Monster Across the Street's dog," Beetlejuice answered, voice thick with scorn and disgust. "Hey little guy," Crowe crouched down and let the dog sniff her hand. Poopsie sniffed her hand and licked her, yapping and snuffling her, begging to be pet. However, he started to growl when Beetlejuice came near. "He doesn't seem to like you," Crowe observed. "The feeling's mutual," Beej stuck his tongue out at the dog. "Beetlejuice! Leave my dawg alone!" a thick Western accented voice roared from inside the house.

The monster that walked out was huge, hairy and had no visible eyes. He wore a cowboy hat and boots, and grabbed Beetlejuice by the collar, lifting him off the ground. "How many times do I have ta tell you to leave my Poopsie alone? I oughta-'' Crowe interrupted, clearing her throat. "Excuse me sir? Do you think you could set him down? He wasn't bothering your dog, at least not intentionally. I just wanted to pet him, he's really cute. I'm sorry I didn't ask," Crowe put on her best self deprecating, aw shucks smile and was extra sugary sweet polite. "Well shucks li'l lady. That's no problem. It's fine you wanting to pet my dog. But, why do you want him to be let down?" the monster asked. "Well, he's sorta my fiancée actually," Crowe admitted, making herself say it. "Another one? I'll never know how you do it Beetlejuice. For you girl, I'll let him go. You might wanna keep him on a shorter leash though." "Duly noted. Thank you Mr. Monster Across the Street."

Beetlejuice hit the ground hard, and Crowe helped him to his feet. "Thanks for the help Babes," he mumbled. "Well, I didn't want to see you squished in front of me." Beetlejuice looked up hopefully. "I'd hate to get your guts all over this nice new cloak." His face fell…literally. "Nice trick," Crowe picked his face up and put it upside down on his head. "Really funny Babes," he turned his head around so it was back to the way it was supposed to be. "I thought so. Hell, that was me going easy on you, especially after what you pulled earlier." "I said I was sorry!" "I'll need to hear it a few more times before I even think of forgiving you. But…there's a way you can make me think a little faster…" Beetlejuice wasn't sure he liked the smirk she was wearing. It reminded him too much of…someone…oh yeah. Himself. Heh.

"Faster! C'mon! Go faster!" Crowe yelled, laughing wildly and clinging to Beetlejuice's shoulders. "But Ba-abes! You're heavy! I can't go faster," Beetlejuice tightened his grip on the underside of Crowe's thighs and lifted her higher. She wrapped her legs further around his waist, kicking him slightly in the ribs. "Remind me again why I agreed to give you a piggyback ride?" "Because you want me to forgive you and this makes me happy?" Crowe answered. "This makes ya happy huh?" Crowe didn't need to see him to know that he was smirking and waggling his eyebrows, making a pitiful attempt at being seductive. She kicked him harder, aiming a little below the belt. "What?" "You're…incorrigible. And an ignoramus." "Hey no need for name calling Babes," Beej whined. "Do you even know what that means?" Crowe leaned against his back, noticing despite being greasy, his hair was rather soft. "Nope. I just know I don't like how it sounds. What's it mean?" "A moron basically. You smell funny. Really weird actually." "Aw, you know just how to sweet talk a guy," Beej said, laying on the sugary tone thickly. Crowe tugged sharply on his hair. "Ow! Babes!" "You deserved it…hey! Mind the hands buddy!"

Finally, when Beetlejuice's shirt was soaked through with sweat and he didn't think he could take another step they reached his house. Crowe slid from his back, smoothing down her shirt, which had ridden up. "I forgive you now Beetlejuice. Ok?" she pat him on the head, giggling as he nodded weakly and collapsed against the side of the house. "Never again Babes. Never ever," he gasped. "Aww, never ever?" Crowe leaned closer to him, batting her eyes. "Well, maybe I could be persuaded…hey, where ya going?" Crowe disappeared into his house, still laughing.

When he composed himself and managed to stroll inside appearing calm and cool, Beetlejuice found Crowe in the Living-Dead room chattering away with Ginger and Jacques, already introduced to one another. "Nice of you to wait for me Babes," he mumbled. "I was sort of…accosted by them and we started talking. Sorry I exhausted you like that," Crowe said sheepishly. "Ah don't worry about it Babes. Are you two happy now I introduced her to you?" "Oui. Now, will you let us throw bachelor and bachelorette parties?" Jacques asked. "I got nothing against it. Crowe?" "A bachelorette party in the Neitherworld, before I'm even twenty. Sounds interesting. I'm in. Are you planning it Ginger?" "Sure am," the spider answered proudly. "Will there be dead male dancers?" Crowe asked, trying to sound innocent. "Of course. What'sa bachelorette party without'em?" Ginger asked, laughing. Crowe too giggled behind her hands.

"Now wait just a second, isn't this sort of thing the kind of thing that started this whole…thing?" Beetlejuice's brows drew together in confusion. "Uhh…do you even know what you just said?" Crowe asked. "A little. The whole other guys thing starting this you being mad at me thing," Beej clarified. "Ah. I see. 'Cause of your crazy jealousy." "Right, 'cause of my crazy…oh no. I'm not that easy to trick." "Yeah you are." "Babes, don't start again." "Whatcha gonna do if I do start?" "You don't wanna know." "Yeah I think I do." "No you don't." "I do." "Better get used to saying those words Babes." "You're an ass." "Takes one to know one." *Slap!* "Ow! Babes, when're you gonna stop hittin' me?!" "When you stop being mean!" "Gonna be a long wait…ouch! Again with the hair pulling!"

Ginger and Jacques watched in amusement as the two argued and slapped at one another. Though truthfully it was more Crowe slapping him, and pulling his hair. "You seeing what I'm seeing Jacques?" Ginger whispered. "Oui. It's Lydia and Be-atlejoose almost all over again. Although perhaps eet is a bit more zan that. 'Oo knows?" "I know. Oh it's gonna be so romantic. Look at them!" the spider squealed, gaining everyone's attention. "Look at who?" "Nobody Crowe. Don't worry about it. Honest. Just go ahead beating up Beetlejuice," Ginger snickered at the look on Beej's face. Which got even funnier as Crowe shrugged and said "Ok then."

Only when Crowe started to nod off against the arm of the couch did anyone think to check the time. It was well past midnight. "Hey Babes, why don't ya just sleep here tonight?" Beetlejuice suggested tiredly. "Nuh-uh," Crowe mumbled, rubbing at her eyes, not caring that she smudged her eyeliner. "But Babes, it's so late. You're already almost asleep on the couch. Ginger and Jacques are going to bed, what's the harm in you sleeping here?" "Gotta…feed…Axl." Beej growled softly. That damned rat. "Fine. But this is the only time you'll get two piggy back rides in one day," he slung Crowe up onto his back, catching her as she slipped. "Crowe, you're gonna hafta hang on tighter. I can't…oh hell, Babes, c'mon work with me," he muttered. "Sorry Beej. I'm jus' sooo tired," Crowe yawned and twined her arms around his neck, using his shoulder as a pillow. "So'm I, but I'm still carrying you," he groaned, heading up the path to the door to her world. "'Cause you're a nice guy like that," Crowe answered quietly. Beetlejuice paused, and shook his head. "Don't know what you're talking about Babes." "Sure I do. My mom said you were a nice guy, really, really deep down. So you must be," she said firmly, like if her mom said it, it must be true and nothing could change her mind. "Yeah well, just don't spread it around. I've got a reputation to keep up."

Crowe lethargically sprinkled food into Axl's dish and gave him a good night pat on the head. Beetlejuice was curled up, very close to asleep, on her bed. She herself was too tired to care. She slid under the sheets, nudged him aside, put a few pillows between them and let sleep wrap like a warm blanket around her. She hadn't even bothered to change out of her jeans, shirt and cloak.

_A/N: so ends another chapter. Was it good? Reviews let me know. I crave positive reinforcement and constructive criticism like BJ craves bugs. Which as we know is a lot. So, d'you think you could see your way to click the review button and feed me? Pretty please?_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: yay, five chapters^^ I'm always proud when I make it to five chapters. I don't know why. It just always feels like a milestone for me. Oh, and I just thought now would be a good time to maybe explain the title I chose, in case anyone didn't know. Like, you know the phrase 'jail bait'? well this is like that only for dead people, thus it would be 'grave bait'! See? I think it's kind of funny. If you don't, it's ok. I won't get upset. It happens. Now, on with the show!_

On any other Sunday, Crowe would get to sleep in. She'd get to sleep until noon if she wanted, because she didn't have work, and she had no school. However, on this particular Sunday, which just happened to be the Sunday after she had spent the entire night at Beetlejuice's house, she wasn't allowed. No, she was woken at an unholy hour of the morning (before 8 am). Why? Well, a certain ghost had rolled over in her bed, and was snoring rather close to her face. And he had terrible morning breath. Worse than anything she'd ever smelled in her life. As she stared in complete shock, he mumbled something and snuggled closer to her. He'd changed into his pajamas at some point, and despite herself she smiled at the too small maroon pj's decorated with little beetles. But that didn't mean she liked him this close.

Beetlejuice got the rudest awakening of his afterlife that Sunday morning. He was shoved rather harshly to the floor, twisted in sheets, his backside aching suddenly. "Babes, at least let me sleep in a little bit before you go on beating me. I mean, it's Sunday morning, it's not even eight yet," he grumbled. "Why should you get to sleep in if I don't?" Crowe asked. "What're you talking about?" "I'm talking about you waking me up with your bad breath in my face 'cause you're all snuggled up to me. Haven't you ever heard of brushing your teeth?" she wrinkled her nose. "I've _heard_ of it, yeah. Not sure if I ever did it," he answered thoughtfully. "Eurgh! If you think you can 'kiss the bride' like that, you are sadly mistaken." "Yeah. Right. Whatever. Can I come back to bed now? It's sort of cold down here and not as comfortable. Plus my ass hurts from the whole hard landing," Beej floated up into the air and hovered by the bed.

Crowe considered telling him no, but she was still tired, and wanted nothing more than to burrow back under the covers and sleep. She got the feeling she wouldn't be able to unless she let him sleep in the bed. "All right. But be quiet. I need sleep, and if you interrupt it, I will hurt you in ways you can't even imagine." "Not a morning person, huh Babes?" Beej asked, watching Crowe disappearing under the covers. She peeked out at him, hair frizzing around her face. "What was your first clue?" she replied, still able to dish out the sarcasm even in her tired state. He chuckled, "That's ok. Me neither." Beetlejuice inched closer and closer until he was very nearly pressed against her back, one arm slung across her.

"Just what are you doing Beej?" "Getting cozy. Why?" "Well, you're getting rather close to me…and oh, you're moving closer," Crowe looked over her shoulder at him. "Uh-huhhh," he drawled out, eyes sparkling with the nefarious thoughts that were typically at the forefront of his mind. "Beej, don't make me send you to the couch. I'm too tired to bother, but if you force me to I will. Stay like that and mind your hands. They start moving and I'll take'em off and lock'em away." Beetlejuice glowered at the lump that was Crowe under the blankets for about a minute before deciding it really wasn't worth it. Besides, he was getting to sleep _really_ close to her, and she was really warm, might as well enjoy it and not poke at it too much. If he did, she was liable to never let it happen again, whether he was a dog or not. And frankly, he liked her bed. It was even more comfortable than his, and he wasn't all alone. Not that he'd ever admit to caring whether he was alone or not out loud. He had a reputation to maintain.

Hours later, actually around noon, maybe a little after, Crowe was rudely awoken once more. This time by someone licking her face. "Babes, Babes, Babes! Wake up. C'mon, wakey wakey, bugs and bakey," Beetlejuice's gravelly, sort of Southern twanged voice was right in her face. "Go away," Crowe reached out blindly to shove him away, and felt soft fuzzy fur. She slid open her eyes and saw the dog standing on her chest, nose to nose, tongue hanging out. "What do you want now?" she groaned and pushed him off. "I'm hungry, and bored. It's noon, wake up nooooowwwww!" he ended in a howl, tail thumping against the sheets. Crowe clapped her hands over her ears, "Shut up!" "Then get up. I'm hungry; I want you to make breakfast." "Say the magic words." "Now?" "Close but not quite." "…Please," he said grudgingly. "Good boy," she ruffled his ears. "Don't pet me babes," Beej said flatly. "Aww, you don't want me to scratch behind your ears?" Crowe did just that as she teased him. "Or what about your belly?" Beetlejuice rolled over against his will, his hind leg twitching. She scratched his belly for a few more minutes, before getting out of bed, finger combing her hair.

"What, the minute I start enjoying that, you leave? You're a tease," Beetlejuice looked at her, still lying on his back. "Am not. But I can't get distracted by you if I'm gonna get breakfast," Crowe called over her shoulder as she headed downstairs. "So I'm a distraction am I?" "Not the kind you're thinking of. It's less to do with romance and more to do with I'm a sucker for the puppy dog eyes. You're not exactly the ladies ghost like you'd like to think, hate to tell you. At least not for me. Now, c'mon boy!" she whistled.

"Make me," he said stubbornly. That crack about not being a ladies ghost had stung more than he liked.

"I'll carry you down stairs."

"So? Not your best threat Babes."

"And I'll give you a bath. With flowery scented pink shampoo."

"What's for breakfast?" Beetlejuice appeared at Crowe's feet, wagging his tail, his ears tilted up. "That depends." "Depends on what?" "Are you gonna stay the puppy, or are you going to your usual self?" "Why's that matter?" "Staying a dog means you get table scraps, being yourself means you get a bowl of cereal you can put beetles on." Beej thought about it for a minute, before changing back to himself, still in his pajamas. "That's a hard working shirt," Crowe observed, noting how the few buttons strained to hold the shirt closed. "Leave me alone Babes," Beetlejuice patted his stomach as it hung out from the bottom of the shirt and over the pants slightly. He floated next to her down the stairs, cracking his knuckles and his back. Unintentionally, at the same time, Crowe was cracking a crick in her neck, echoing him. She set out two bowls on the table, filling them both with Lucky Charms and adding milk. Beetlejuice zapped his, mixing in beetles and cockroaches and other various insects.

They both sounded the same when they ate, chewing and slurping down their cereal and milk as fast as they possibly could. At almost the exact same time, two spoons clattered to the table and the two bowls were slid away from them. Beetlejuice let out a belch, and slid down in his chair. "Ew, that smelled," Crowe waved her hand in front of her face, her nose wrinkled. "Thanks," he smirked. "Not a compliment." "Doesn't mean I won't take it as one." "I know, and that makes arguing with you really hard." "Maybe you should give up?" "Not a chance," Crowe grinned viciously. Beetlejuice liked that, he hadn't wanted her to give up. Again, something he'd never tell her.

"So, what're we doing today?" Beetlejuice asked, leaning his chair back on two legs. "I don't know. I never really do anything Sundays. I typically just stay home. Why, you got a hot date or something? With Lizzie Borden maybe?" Crowe grinned. "Very funny. You do nothing all day? But that's so boring!" "Well, what do you suggest then? Do you have some fantastic idea of how to spend the day? And I swear if you suggest anything immoral I'll…" "Yeah, yeah, I know. We could go to the Neitherworld, there's a great place, the Eye Scream shop, for ice cream. Or maybe catch a movie at the drive in?" "Are you asking me on a date?" Crowe asked, one dark eye brow arched. "Yeah, I guess I am. So what?" "Well, I'm not too sure about that, see, because you said you're never too pervy on the first date. Yesterday would've been our first date, by your definition. So I'm a little concerned about what could happen here you see," she shrugged. "Fine, fine Babes, I promise to behave sort of. Cross my heart and hope to…well, you get the idea," he flashed a grin, crooked teeth showing. Crowe laughed at him. She admitted he was funny at least. Completely bonkers and perverted and possibly a little dangerous, but funny. And really, isn't a sense of humor really what counts?

Crowe took a shower quickly, and changed into a pair of black torn up overalls, with a black and red striped hooded shirt underneath. She put her hair into one long braid with a red ribbon tied on the end, and laced up her red converse chucks. "Where do you get all these clothes?" Beej asked, seeing similarities between Crowe's style and Lydia's. "Mom made some for me, and taught me how to make them, and gave me ideas. We also used to shop at little out of the way places with really cool clothes, sometimes in thrift stores, sometimes in non-brand name stores that only a few people know about. She drew up this outfit, and I put it together about a year ago. Luckily, if you didn't notice, I'm on the short side, and I didn't have to change the sizes too much," she slipped her cell phone into her pocket, curious to see if she still got signal in the Neitherworld. "Lyds and you made this?" "Yup. They're probably one of my favorite pairs of pants. Not typical date wear but so what right?" "Right. Ready to go Babes?" "As I'll ever be…oh, am I gonna need money? Or are you going to be chivalrous and pay?" Crowe asked like she already knew the answer. "Uh…gee, Babes, I just had to pay rent you see…and well, I'm flat broke," Beetlejuice transformed into a disc and fell to the floor, shattering, before he pulled himself together. "Some date you are, can't even pay for me," Crowe muttered, but Beej could see she didn't mean it totally.

With her money folded in her wallet, Crowe took a deep breath and let it out slow. "Though I know I should be wary, still I venture someplace scary. Ghostly haunting I turn loose, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, BEETLEJUICE!"

Beetlejuice raced Crowe up the stairs, and almost won, until she shoved him out of the way and tumbled through the door first, laughing hysterically, gasping for breath and nearly crying from laughing so hard. "My-my stomach h-hurts!" she giggled, lying on the ground just outside the door. "I let you win, just so you know Babes," Beetlejuice said drily. "Sure ya did. Not. I won almost fair and square." "Only 'cause you shoved me outta the way." "Yeah, I did, didn't I?" Crowe looked at him upside down from the ground. "You gonna sit there all day, or are we gonna get ice cream?" Beej crossed his arms, staring down at her. She rolled onto her stomach, "You're just mad 'cause I beat you." "Am not." "Are so." Crowe got to her feet, dusting off her clothes. "I am not." "You so are Beej. But it's nothing to be ashamed of. I played dirty." A lazy sort of smirk punctuated her words, leaving her ghostly fiancée for once at a loss for words. Her giggles trailed back towards him as she went along the path to his house, as it was the only place she knew of so far in the Neitherworld. "Hey, wait up Babes!"

Crowe waited for him by the door, leaning against it with arms folded across her chest. "How do we get there anyway?" "We'll have to drive obviously. So we'll take Doomie," Beetlejuice whistled for his faithful car, which came speeding up to greet him. "Did you forget already that I don't like driving?" Crowe asked, looking worriedly at the car as it panted and nuzzled Beetlejuice's hand. "Nah, I didn't forget. But Babes, he's perfectly safe. I mean, your mom and I built him. So of course he's safe…for the most part. Aren't ya Doomie?" Beej asked the yellow car. Doomie beeped in response, his engine revving. "I don't know…" "Listen Crowe, it's fine. Doomie will go nice and easy. We won't crash. Right?" he glanced at Doomie, who nodded as best as a car can. "All right. I don't know why, but I trust you somewhat. It's probably highly misplaced, but, whatever. I'll try it." _Though I'm most likely going to regret this._ But she didn't say that bit out loud.

In a rare display of gallantry, Beetlejuice opened her door for her, helping her in. "Should probably buckle up too," he added, which did nothing to alleviate her fears. She closed her eyes tight and clung to the seat until her hands paled even more than usual. A little yelp escaped her when Doomie started to move and head out onto the road. "Open your eyes Babes," Beetlejuice's voice was laced with laughter at her expense. Slowly, tentatively, Crowe cracked open her eyes, and peered over the top of her door. The wind whipped her bangs into her eyes, and she had to tuck it behind her ears to get it out of her face. "Not too bad is it?" She glanced over at Beetlejuice, and jumped in surprise. "Beetlejuice! Put your hands back on the wheel! We're gonna crash!" "No we're not Babes, relax. Doomie's got it under control." And indeed, Doomie was in complete control of their travel. Beetlejuice leaned back in his seat, hands folded behind his head. Carefully, Crowe sat up fully in her seat, jerking her hands from their grip on the seat. She couldn't slow her breathing though, and was more than relieved when they finally reached the Eye Scream shop.

Beetlejuice didn't even bother to cover up his laughter at Crowe as she stumbled getting out of Doomie and nearly hit the ground. "Need a hand Babes?" She whimpered softly in response, and without a word, took his hand. "You'll get used to it," he chuckled, tugging her along inside. "Nuh-uh. Do not want. It's scary," Crowe said firmly. "Yeah, yeah, sure. What flavor you want?" Crowe stared up at the menu, reading through the flavors. "In case you can't decide, one of your mom's favorites was Chocolate Scum-dae. I like cockroach cluster myself, but it's your choice." Beej suggested. "I'll try chocolate scum-dae. You want cockroach cluster then?" "Yeah, definitely. Thanks Babes, you're the best."

"It's not gonna last much longer if you keep staring at it like that," Beej licked drips of ice cream from his hand, not bothering with the napkins. Crowe glanced at him and back at her ice cream that was almost melted. She scooped up a spoonful and stuck it in her mouth. Her eyes widened. "This is great! I didn't think it would be but it is!" Within minutes, Crowe finished her ice cream and set her spoon down. "Ooh! Brain freeze!" she rubbed at her temples, trying to will away the intense cold. When it was gone and she'd wiped off her hands and face, she threw away the dish her ice cream had come in. "I'm not even going to ask what was in that. I think it's like with a hot dog, where you don't ask about the ingredients, you just enjoy them." "Smart idea. So long as it tasted good right? So, movies? There's a creature double feature down at the drive in." "Two questions." "Yeah?" he sighed. "One, are they cheesy B movies with bad special effects? I love those." "Probably." "Two, are you gonna stick to your promise and keep your hands to yourself? I mean, I'd hate to get angry at you when we're getting along so well right now. Know what I mean?" "Sure, whatever. I can be good." "I'll believe that when I see it." "So mean to me." "You like it I bet." "Do not." "I'll bet you do. You're a glutton for punishment. It's why you act so annoying, just to get the attention." "Yep, that's it. Way to psychoanalyze me. I totally love the threat of getting dumped in Sandworm Land or exorcism," he said sarcastically. "Exorcism?" "The death penalty for the dead. Surprisingly, I've never done anything bad enough to get that. But I know that they've at least considered it." "Doesn't that worry you?" Crowe asked, brows twisted in concern. "Nope. Why, worried about me Babes?" Beetlejuice made light of it with his usual flirting.

Crowe paused, unsure of how best to answer. Yes, she was worried about him, because…well, she needed a friend, and he was already starting to fit the bill nicely. Marriage was something she had to consider, but being his friend, she could do that. Maybe it was being so like her mom, being able to tolerate him, because he wasn't the friendliest of ghosts. It was like he purposely pushed people away. And maybe at some point, she could figure out why. But whatever it was, they were friends, at least as far as she was concerned.

"Babes?" Beetlejuice snapped his fingers in front of her face, drawing her out of her thoughts. "Sorry, got a bit distracted. Anyway, yeah, I'm worried. Not gonna lie, I'd feel kinda bad to see you get eaten or exorcised or whatever. So please try not to, ok?" He gave her a small smile in response, "No promises, Babes. That's all I can offer." Crowe sighed, knowing it was the best she was going to get. "Good enough. Can we go to the movies now? And how long is until the movie? Could we drive around the Neitherworld for a bit first?" she asked, warming up to the change in subject. In answer, he changed with the blink of an eye to a red button up shirt with black spiders on it, black pants, a long brown trench coat, and a hat that read 'guide'. All elements of the outfit had clearly seen better days.

"I'll take the tour guide ensemble as a yes then?" "You bet," he nodded. "You changed clothes for the first time," Crowe observed. "Count yourself honored Babes. I don't change for everyone. I changed for Lyds a lot. Like Betty Juice, I was her sometimes to go to school with her." "Her? Betty Juice? What?" Crowe asked, very confused. To demonstrate, Beetlejuice transformed into the 'ghoul girl school girl', shrinking down to Crowe's height, complete with the school girl uniform. "Let me get this straight, you dressed in drag to hang out at school with mom? Ok, sweet, sort of I guess. A little odd, but whatever. I'll say this though; you can't do that at school now. Too noticeable." Crowe followed Beetlejuice out to Doomie. "But if you could turn into the snake, you could come, if you wanted." "You mean like this?" he clearly enjoyed showing off as he changed into the small black and white snake and wrapped around her wrist. "That works. Now change back, I want to see the Neitherworld. Please?"

Beetlejuice obliged, and turned back into the tour guide. As Doomie revved up and started out on the road, he sat looking furtively at Crowe, who was staring at the scenery with open awe, and laughed to himself. He had really only planned to marry her to hurt Lyds for ditching him. He hadn't counted on this whole being Crowe's friend thing. But on the other hand, he should've seen it coming. Seriously, she was Lydia's daughter, it wasn't that odd that it happened. The silence was stretching out way too thin for him, so he figured maybe it was a good time to break it, point out some interesting bit of the landscape to her. Or maybe talk about her. Either or.

"So how'd you get this?" Beej asked, almost touching the faint scar on Crowe's cheek. "Hmm? Oh…y'know, I really don't remember. It's like I forced myself to forget…but, I remember it happened just after the funeral. For all I know, some of my mom's patients caused it," Crowe shrugged. "You might be right. I think…I think that's about when your dad first called me. I reckon then it was them. Don't know what they did though. Sorry Babes." "Don't worry about it. I don't. Though I probably should. I think my dad worries more than enough for the both of us, about everything. At least he doesn't have to worry about my not talking anymore, even if the only ones I talk to are you and him." Beetlejuice airly waved his hand, "Whatcha need to talk to other people for anyway? They're not worth your time, not like me…and your dad too I guess." "Egotistical much Beej?" Crowe asked, eyebrows raised. "You think this is egotistical, you ain't seen nothing yet," he promised with a wicked grin. "Fantastic. And what do you mean they're not worth my time?" "I mean, like from what you told me, and from experience with your mom, is that the ones who you could talk to, the ones who pick on you, they're just scum. And jealous."

It was a good thing Crowe wasn't drinking anything, or she would have spat it out into the slipstream around Doomie. "Right, jealous, of me. Ok, now I know you're crazy. Or just trying to be overly nice for certain favors," she turned a cynical accusing look on him. "Would I?" "Yeah. Plus, I know you don't like nice, it probably gives you hives, so you wouldn't be nice. My mom may have written down that you could be nice on occasion, but for the little tiny acts of niceness I have yet to see full blown nicety from you." "Ouch. Seriously Babes, you know just what to say to hurt," Beej gave Crowe a sad wounded face. "Oh please. I know that didn't hurt you that much. Because you know it's the truth. You do everything in your power to not be nice and push people away. Except for my mom, and me. Anyway, waaaaay off topic there. How are they jealous?" "You're seriously gonna make me explain, aren't you?" "You brought it up. C'mon, fess up. What, in your oh so intelligent opinion makes them jealous?" Crowe smirked as she watched Beetlejuice squirm uncomfortably, wishing he'd just left it alone and let her wallow in depression. Or let her continue to psychoanalyze and insult him.

He mumbled something unintelligible, averting his gaze. "Didn't catch that, sorry," Crowe barely contained her snickers. "'Cause they…they have ta coat themselves in makeup to think they're pretty, and you don't. You just are. There, happy now?" he sulked in the front seat. "So I'm prettier than them. That's it? And they know it, and are threatened huh? How much prettier? I want details Beej," Crowe said, now wearing the wicked grin. "Are you sure about that Babes?" At her nod, he sighed in annoyance, and started in. "They're all like toothpicks right? Probably? Gotta diet and stuff to maintain looking like a twelve year old boy with tits, but they're still not happy. And you come along, with that," he paused, leering lasciviously at her, "_great_ figure, and the hair and everything, not even having to try, just hitting the genetic lottery, well, I know it would piss me off. Ok? Will you leave me alone about it now?" he grumbled. "Yup, 'cause I got you to be nice, even if it was for just a minute," Crowe laughed.

Beej turned in his chair to face her, intent on berating her for gloating and rubbing it in his face that he'd been…blech…nice. However, her eyes widened, and she yelled out suddenly. "Beej watch out!" Doomie stopped short, tires squealing and leaving trails of rubber on the pavement. Crowe let out a scream, hands digging into the seat belt as it cut into her neck. Beetlejuice was not so lucky, as he wasn't wearing a seatbelt. He was catapulted out of the car, careening over the coach that had pulled out in front of them to land yards away, deep in the dirt, a black and white puddle. Crowe couldn't catch her breath; it was coming too fast and too shallow. All she saw was her mom, lying broken and bloody and giving her one last smile. She forced herself to take a deep breath, hating the way it shuddered. "Beej?" her voice cracked. He didn't answer. "C'mon, are you all right?" Again, no answer. "If you're trying to scare me…this isn't funny! Are you ok?"

_What do I do? What should I do? The carriage in front isn't moving, no one's getting out. Should I check on Beej or wait in the car? He's dead, he can't die…but can he get hurt?_ Crowe went against her gut, which was telling her to wait in the car, and climbed out of Doomie. "I'll be right back, okay Doomie?" she murmured. The car gave a soft little beep of acknowledgement. She skirted the carriage and went over to Beej. He was lying in a heap in a pile of soft brown dirt, his limbs at odd angles. Tentatively, she nudged his shoulder. His eyes flew open, and he took in a deep gasp, startling Crowe. With a little yelp, she fell back on her butt, and gaped at him. He sat up slowly, popping everything back into place. "That fucking killed," he groaned, holding his head. "Pun intended of course?" Crowe grinned weakly. "Course. You ok Babes?" BJ asked, taking Crowe's offered hand to get to his feet. She nodded, and before he knew it, she had let out a small sob and threw her arms around him. "Don't do that again. I mean it. Wear your seat belt ok?" "Really that worried about me?" Beetlejuice asked. "All I could think of was my mom. And what can I say, I got attached to you, against my will, and I didn't want to see you gone too. Then who'd be my friend?" "I'm living impaired Babes. Can't die again. But it did hurt. Now, who the hell pulls out in front of a person like that?" he growled, going up to the carriage.

The door swung open, and the boy who stepped out left Beetlejuice with a sour taste in his mouth. "I'm so terribly sorry, my driver wasn't paying…attention.......Beetlejuice," he said slowly, eyes widening when they fell on Beej "You're highness," Beej said snidely. Crowe looked confusedly between the two, sensing some sort of history. Beetlejuice gave her a glance that said he'd explain later. In truth, he hardly knew where to begin. After Lyds had stopped coming as much, he had ceased palling around with Prince Vince. Lydia had been the equalizer between the two; without her, he saw no reason to bore himself to tears with the prince. So Prince Vince had lost his friends. Beej suspected that over the years, with the loneliness coupled with the loss of his friends that Prince Vince had started to go around the proverbial bend. In other words, he'd gone batshit crazy, and stayed locked in his castle. And for some absurd (in BJ's opinion anyway) he blamed Beetlejuice. Almost if on cue, a storm cloud condensed over the prince's head, spreading out and raining down on them torrentially.

"Someone want to explain what's going on? Even just a little bit?" Crowe practically yelled over the thunder that came from nowhere. She was cold and soaked and not happy about it. "My apologies miss, I can't do anything about it I'm afraid. I'm Prince Vince, ruler of the Neitherworld," Prince Vince took Crowe's hand, laying a light kiss on her knuckles. Beej growled low in his throat. "Pleased to meet you…your highness. I'm Crowe. Maybe you knew my mom, Lydia?" "Ah yes! She was a good friend of mine," Prince Vince shot a quick glare at Beetlejuice. "You look just like her you know." "I get that a lot. Got my dad's eyes though." "Indeed. I'm very sorry again that this happened. I didn't mean any harm. Though, what are you two doing together?" Before Crowe could answer, Beetlejuice did, snarling almost viciously, "She's my fiancée." "Oh…well, my…sincerest congratulations to the both of you," Prince Vince said, with a look on his face that said plainly that he wanted to say 'my condolences' to Crowe.

A few moments of idle chit chat later, with Beetlejuice grinding his teeth, and Crowe getting more and more unnerved by Prince Vince's obvious flirting with her, they were allowed to leave, soaked and chilled to the bones. The carriage left as they got back into Doomie, both buckling their seatbelts. "I'm sensing a bit of hostility between the two of you," Crowe started. "He dated your mom," Beetlejuice grumbled. Ah. That explained it. "Wait, mom dated him? But he's all pasty and pointy and…icky!" "Babes, you do not know how happy you just made me saying that. I thought you were gonna pick him too. Which would've sucked out loud. Know, see, Lyds talked me into being his friend sort of. But, when she stopped coming here, I saw no reason to hang out with his royal gloominess, and left him. I don't think it's left him all that sane tell the truth," he added. "Didn't seem like. Also, I'd say he's none too fond of you. I hope he doesn't think just 'cause I look like mom that I'll want to be his friend. I don't. Nothing could make me want to play princess of the Neitherworld." "Really? You wouldn't even accept it? All the riches and being able to do what you want?" "I don't need the money really, and I can do what I want anyway. You know what that's like." "I guess. Anyway, want to go back to my place to dry off. I might have something you could borrow, if you wanted." "Thanks. I'm freezing and soaked. It'll be a miracle if I don't catch cold," Crowe shivered, arms wrapped tight around herself.

Beetlejuice dug through his piles of clothes, looking for something that would fit Crowe that was dry and didn't smell too bad and…covered everything. Not that he cared, he would prefer it honestly, but if he gave her something that was in tatters she would sit in her cold clothes and get sick and not be able to hang out with him. He wondered at why he had so many clothes when he hardly changed himself. But whatever, didn't matter now. He finally found a large button up maroon shirt and a pair of clean shorts embroidered with beetles. Wasn't exactly fashion forward, but he doubted she would care. "Any luck?" she called from the couch. "Just a sec Babes. Gotcha something," he popped out of thin air into the room, handing over the clothes. "Anywhere I can change? And maybe a towel to dry off with?" "Geez, you just want everything," Beej sighed, but he didn't mean it. he gave her what she asked for, and directed her to the bathroom, changing himself into his pajamas with a snap of his fingers. He lay back on the couch to wait for her.

"Where should I put my clothes?" Crowe walked out a few minutes later wearing just the shirt, which stopped at her knees. "The uh…shorts are too big for me and wouldn't stay up," she added, her cheeks reddening. Beetlejuice swallowed thickly and blinked rapidly. "Umm…you could just…hang them on the side of the tub I guess," he answered, not even trying to avert his gaze from her legs. "Why do you have a tub anyway if you don't bathe?" "Came with the house. Here, I'll take care of it," he snapped his fingers again, and the clothes went and hung themselves up. "So, the movies are a bust then huh, no thanks to Prince Depressing," Crowe tossed herself onto the couch, arms crossed angrily. Though it was ruined somewhat by her hair being in wet tangles. She'd tried to comb it out only to find Beetlejuice didn't have a comb. "Sorry Babes. But it's either sit here and be warm and dry or sit at the movies and be soaked and uncomfortable. Dunno about you, but I pick here. The movies aren't going anywhere…least not last time I checked. Never know with the movies here," he grinned, trying to cheer her up. It worked and she laughed. Which was what he was trying for anyway.

Beetlejuice turned so he was leaning against Crowe's shoulder, feet over the arm of the couch. "Tired?" she asked, glancing at him. "Surprisingly yes." "We've only been up for a couple of hours though…but I am too. Might be the sudden weather change and getting warm. A nap won't hurt. Just gotta get home to feed Axl," Crowe set and alarm on her cell phone and set it on the spindly little end table next to the couch. Her eye lids were heavy, and she felt them drooping. She leaned her head to the side, resting it on top of Beej's. He was already dozing lightly, snoring. "Yeah, a nap would be good," Crowe mumbled again, and let her eyes fall shut.

They awoke later to her cell phone going off, waking just enough to gather their clothes and go back to Crowe's house. Crowe shuffled into the laundry room and tossed their clothes in the dryer and went up to feed Axl, returning to the living room to find Beetlejuice curled up on the couch. She had to admit, he was rather sweet looking when he slept, but then again, she was sure there were some serial killers who looked like perfect angels when asleep. Still, she carefully lifted his head and set it on her lap, leaning against the back of the couch and falling back asleep.

A/N: couldn't help ending with a bit of fluff there. I'm a fan of fluff, what can I say? Oh, and in case anyone was wondering, I'm using a bit of creative license here and making Prince Vince into something of a bad guy. Sorry to all Prince Vince fans. I'm just not much of a fan of his honestly, so I don't have any issue with bashing him somewhat. Still, R&R? please?


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: not much to say here, other than the obvious…that I don't own the characters except for the OCs. Everyone else belongs to Tim Burton and all his buddies. I can only hope he doesn't mind me taking them out and playing with them on occasion. Otherwise I'm rather screwed._

Beetlejuice woke up alone and without a nice warm pillow on the couch in Crowe's house. For a moment, he wondered what had woken him. But, as he stretched on his back, almost falling off the couch in the process, it hit him. He really, _really_ needed to go to the bathroom. Badly. Unfortunately, he could hear water running as he went upstairs, and Crowe was singing. Which meant she was in the shower. He had a moment of doing the awkward dance of the in desperate need of a bathroom before saying the hell with it and bursting in anyway.

Crowe abruptly cut off her singing, covering herself despite knowing she couldn't be seen. "Beej? What are you doing? I'm trying to get ready for school," she called over the running water. "I had to piss Babes. Sorry. I couldn't help it," he answered. "Oh. You couldn't go outside as a dog?" "It's cold. I'm not going out in the cold. Not when the bathroom is oh so conveniently here." "Just don't flush. I don't feel like being burned this early in the morning. Or at all today actually," she said as an afterthought. "Yeah, yeah, sure, sure," he waved it off and lifted the toilet lid.

There was an incredibly awkward silence, broken only by the shower. "Beej?" "What?" "I've just realized something." "What's that Babes?" "Doesn't this just reek of settled domesticity? You barge in just to pee, and I just let you, even though I'm in the shower. We met...like three or four days ago. Doesn't it seem a little odd?" Crowe asked. "…Not really. It was like that with me and Lyds. After the whole forced marriage thing I mean. After she was done being mad at me for that, everything was fine. Never questioned anything, unlike _some_ people who question every little thing and can't just let things be," he said pointedly. Crowe peered around the shower curtain a little bit, glaring at him, thankful he had pulled his pants back up. Not that she wasn't a little curious, but like she'd said, she'd only just met him. He batted his eyelashes, smirking at her. She flicked water droplets at him, pleased when he stumbled backward, yelping.

"Looks to me like someone's water phobic," Crowe snickered, shutting the curtain securely. "Am not." "Are so." "No way Babes." "Yes way Beej. So you're afraid of two things, sandworms and water." "Well, if you'd been eaten by a sandworm, you wouldn't like'em much either," Beej slumped on the toilet lid, cradling his chin in his hand. "Maybe. But what about water?" "Ever hear of irrational fears Babes? As in, you can't explain it; it's just is part of your psyche?" "Ooh, big word there, 'psyche'. Nice," Crowe taunted. Smirking, he reached over and hit the flush. She screeched and tripped, landing hard on her ass in the shower.

"I hate you."

"You do not, I'm your 'bestest' friend."

"You are not. I am pissed at you right now."

"Would I make it better if I came in and helped you to your feet?"

"Nice try B, not gonna happen right now. And if you keep this up, not ever. Anyway, as entertaining as this verbal sparring is, I need to get dried off and dressed." "Yeah, and?" "I want you to get out. Could you toss me my towel first though, please?" Crowe asked. Her towel came flying over the top of the shower, landing on her head. "Thank you." "Whatever," Beej grumbled, disliking being made to leave. "Help yourself to breakfast," she called after, wrapping the towel around herself and stepping out, combing her hair. He didn't answer. He couldn't seriously be moping about being made to leave, could he? Crowe sighed, and figured maybe she could think of a consolation prize. And as she got dressed and ready for school, she thought of a good prize just for him.

"Oh Bee-eej! I've thought of something!" Crowe floated down the stairs to the kitchen. Beetlejuice was frying beetles in a pan on the stove, wearing a big puffy chef hat and a 'kiss the cook' apron. "Hey Babes, read my apron," he said, grinning. "No habla ingles," Crowe answered smartly. "Funny, real funny. Breakfast?" he offered her some of the crispy blackened beetles. "No, thanks, but I'm on a low beetle diet. I'll just have some lucky charms instead. Anyway, I felt bad, for some reason I can't quite comprehend, about kicking you out like that. I'm inclined to blame you for it. However, I thought of a consolation prize," Crowe said as she poured milk over her cereal. "Oh _really_? Do go on Babes," Beetlejuice set down his plate of beetles at the table and sat across from Crowe. "Nothing like what I'm sure you're thinking. But, like, this Friday is Halloween. If you come trick or treating with me, I won't tell my dad about the snake incident, and I'll sleep over your house finally afterward. We can even trick or treat in the Neitherworld, if you guys do that I mean." "I guess I could make some time in my schedule for you Crowe. I'll have to move some appointments around, call some people and reschedule." "Yeah? What do you have to do? I've never seen you do anything." "I do plenty. Like I was in a photo shoot for GQ. Some underwear deal thing," Beej sniffed haughtily. "Must not have gotten that issue then," Crowe retorted. "You missed out." "I'm sure."

Beetlejuice finished his breakfast, picking at the crumbs left over on his plate. "Hey Babes?" "Yeah?" "That my shirt? The one I loaned you yesterday?" Crowe flushed, which was really answer enough. "Yeah, I tossed it in the laundry earlier to get it clean. I liked how it looked with this skirt. You don't mind do you?" He leaned back, looking at the total effect. He had to admit, the maroon shirt did look good with the short black velvet skirt with black lace at the trim. She wore knee high combat boots as well, and had twisted her hair up with black and red sticks. Her eyes were lined in dusky grey and black, making them seem bigger and brighter. The sleeves hung over her hands, until only her fingertips were visible. "No, I don't mind Babes. It looks good. Great even. You can keep it if you want," he added on a whim. "You sure? I mean, it's your shirt," Crowe worried at her bottom lip with her teeth. "Do I look like I change clothes a lot Babes?" "I suppose not. Thanks Beej. So, ready for school?" Beej nodded and Crowe held out her wrist. A cold weight let her know he has wrapped around it. and indeed, when she looked down, there he was, resting his head, content to get a bit more sleep while she did all the school work. Not that she expected anything less of course.

The day was brisk, blustery and overcast; the sky a swirl of steel and iron colored clouds. The wind whipped at Crowe, snapping her skirt against her legs and blowing her bangs into her eyes. She felt a cold slithering up her arm, and then heard Beetlejuice's voice, which held a slight sibilance due to his forked tongue, in her ear. "It's cold down there on your wrist. So I'm curling up 'round your neck Babes, 'til we get to school. And I get moved around less I was gettin' nauseous there," he hissed. "Uh-huh. Well, remember to be quiet today. I can't be seen supposedly talking to myself. I'm already enough of a freak," Crowe responded. "How do you know everyone else isn't the freaks and you're the normal one? Huh? Think about that one," Beej said, trying to sound deep and intelligent. "I don't know. Good question. But I suppose it's just something you know. Once you're in high school, you get this innate sense of your place in the scheme of the school, oh everyone's status, their social standing. And, in this school, and in most others, my social standing is the loner freak with no mom and no friends who everyone hates."

Beetlejuice scoffed, "I bet not _everyone_ hates you." "Oh no? Well, all the so called popular kids, the Barbies and the Jocks hate me just on principle, as I'm their opposite and different from them. Then, everyone else either wants to be liked by the popular kids, or just doesn't want to be their target, so they hate me to, to gain the approval of the populars. It sucks, them giving in to peer pressure," Crowe sighed dejectedly. "You've got this all figured out, don't ya Babes?" Beej asked. "Oh yeah. It's nice to have the proof to back it up, to make sure I'm not just being overly sensitive and imagining being a loner. Now I know it's personal," Crowe answered bitterly. Beetlejuice surprised her by rubbing his head against her neck, his way of trying to be comforting. She grinned slightly and rubbed the top of his head. "Thanks. So, can you try to behave today? Otherwise I'll just send you to the Neitherworld." "I'll try to be…blech…good," he gagged in her ear. "Oh come on, it's not that bad. Just be quiet really and stay on my wrist. And, no magic. Unless of course, you know, you just can't take it anymore, and you decide to maybe turn Clarissa into a frog and send her into the science department to be dissected. I wouldn't say a word. If my dad asked, I'd tell him you were in the Neitherworld all day, going over like, wedding plans or something." Crowe said slyly. "Yeah. And Ginger and Jacques would swear to it to, if you asked them," Beetlejuice smirked wickedly. "Very good plan there by the way. Dissection. I like it. only thing I would change is doing the dissection myself." "Bloodthirsty much Beej?" Crowe asked, wondering if he was kidding. She sort of hoped he was. It really wasn't the basis for a good relationship, to find out your husband to be had some homicidal tendencies.

As Crowe neared the high school, Beej slipped back onto her wrist, wrapping tight and taking a cat nap. Crowe looked down at him, smiling slightly at how small and cute he looked as a snake. His tongue flicked out as he snored, tickling her wrist. She gave him one last pet on the head before pushing open the door and going inside. As usual, her presence was ignored from that point on, until Beej woke up during her calculus class. She only knew this because he slipped surreptitiously down onto her page filled with near equal parts calculations and doodles. He appeared on the page as a pencil drawing, sort of crudely drawn and all thick lines and angles and scribbles. His mouth moved, and "Hey Babes" appeared in a tiny speech bubble. "Morning," she scrawled out above him. He surveyed his surroundings, visibly impressed by the sketches she'd drawn, and less impressed by the math. "Nice sketches. But what's this stuff?" he said, waving his hand at the math. "Calculus," she answered. "Useless, if you ask me." "No one asked you though," Crowe scribbled out wearily.

Truth was, she couldn't agree more. Just because she was fairly good at math didn't mean she had to like it. Besides, she'd mastered this particular equation last week. But _some_ people needed to go over it again, because they'd been too busy texting on their million dollar phones bought by their super rich daddy to pay attention. Needless to say, the redundancy of it put Crowe in a less than happy mood. Which Beetlejuice noticed, and smartly saw wasn't aimed at him. She was just bored and didn't deal with it well. Rather like him. So, he set about being entertaining. He made his way up the page, turning the calculations into animals. He made a lion out of less than symbols, long division symbols, and some plus signs. He changed into a lion tamer and cracked a tiny whip made of minus signs and a division sign at the lion, getting it to balance an infinity sign on its nose. He backed it into a corner, and Crowe drew large cage around it. Beetlejuice leaned against the margin, wiping his brow. "Thanks Babes. I woulda been lion chow if it weren't for you," he said. "I'm sure. He was _so_ vicious," she wrote, conveying sarcasm even through pencil.

"Miss Hawkins."

Crowe ducked her head, her face heating up as the rest of the class giggled spitefully at her. Mr. Ryanson, her calculus teacher, was perhaps the only teacher who hadn't been all pitying towards her. In fact, if she hadn't known any better, she would have sworn he outright disliked her. She didn't know what she'd done to deserve it, but she knew it wasn't fair at all. She looked up slowly, but not before noticing Beej was gone, her page back to looking normal. Mr. Ryanson was glaring down at her, surprisingly intimidating despite being short, chubby, slightly mousy looking and going bald.

"Yes Mr. Ryanson?" Crowe asked, putting just the right inflection in her tone so that she sounded polite and impertinent all at the same time, as if she really didn't care one way or the other, and would rather be anywhere else. "Perhaps instead of doodling mediocre sketches in the margins of your notebook, you could answer the problem on the board?" Again the class laughed, louder this time, and Crowe couldn't help but bristle. Mediocre?!?! She'd show him mediocre. She squinted at the board, and sighed. He thought he'd tripped her up, given her something she couldn't answer. As if. She rattled off the answer and its explanation perfectly, letting the tiniest bit of smugness creep into her voice. Mr. Ryanson visibly fumed, but couldn't fault her for being right.

"Nerd," someone in the back of the class stage whispered. The teacher smirked cruelly, and didn't say anything against the whisperer. Crowe waited 'til he was back at the front of the room before hanging her head slightly, upset. She was thankful when the bell for lunch rang, even if she was eating alone. For once she made it through the lunch line and to her table without being tripped and shoved into people. She looked skeptically at what was supposed to be a hamburger, unable to believe that's what it was. Crowe instead nibbled at the French fries and sipped her chocolate milk. She felt a cold, scaly movement on her wrist, and saw Beej darting out from her sleeve to snatch a bite of the burger. "School food's not bad," he informed her, swallowing. Surreptitiously, Crowe nudged her plate towards him, silently telling him to help himself. She herself took a couple bites, but couldn't eat much. Burgers aren't supposed to be slimy and cold, the last time she checked.

Eventually, school let out, and Crowe couldn't have been more relieved to start walking home, despite the wind picking up and the sky darkening. Beetlejuice wrapped around her neck once more. "You weren't kidding Babes. You do got it rough there," he said, slightly awestruck at how people could be so mean without a reason. Not that he ever really had a reason, it was just his personality. And he was mean to everyone. But this was personal and he didn't know why. What had Crowe ever done to any of them? Nothing he suspected. It was even worse than Clare Brewster and Lyds. "I know. This was actually a good day," she mumbled. "This was a _good _day?!" "I wasn't injured physically, nothing of mine was stolen or broken, I wasn't tripped or called anything awful. Yeah, it was a good day," she shrugged, nearly dislodging him from her shoulders. "Hey, watch it Babes," he tightened his grip to keep from sliding to the ground. "Sorry," she caught him and lifted him back up. "Thanks," he settled in more securely.

The walk went quietly enough, until Beetlejuice became aware of singing. It was the same song Crowe had been singing earlier. "Whatcha singing Babes?" he asked, lifting his head up. "Oh…you heard that?" she asked sheepishly, and he could feel her blushing. "Well, I _am_ right next to your throat. And I'm not deaf. So what're you singing?" "Guns'n'Roses. 'Sweet Child O'Mine'," she mumbled, embarrassed to be caught. "Oh! Heh heh, welcome to the jungle baby, you gonna die!" Beetlejuice cried, startling her. This time he did start to fall, and changed back into himself to stop from hitting the ground hard. "That time it was your own fault," she told him. "Not my fault you scare easily," Beej floated beside her on his back, one arm under his head, the other digging a beetle from his pocket to munch on. Crowe grimaced at the crunching sound, and ignored the slight jab at her scaring easily. It wasn't worth it anyway. She fumbled for her keys in her teddy bear bag, and let herself in, sitting at the kitchen table to get her homework done.

Beetlejuice hovered over her shoulder, checking out the homework. "Do you have to do this?" he asked, bored once more. "Yes, unfortunately I do. Believe me, I don't want to. I'd rather go back to the Neitherworld and catch a movie, as I was promised, or even get to see more of it. And hopefully Prince Vince doesn't ruin it again. I don't like him flirting with me, it's creepy. He's like, what, fifteen roughly, if he were alive? And I'm eighteen. Just because my mom dated him, doesn't mean I'm gonna. Don't let this go to your head Beej, but I'd rather hang out with you. He's dead depressing," Crowe turned back to her homework, typing in her calculations on her calculater, very aware that Beej was doing a little happy dance in the air. She had the feeling it was more some male pride thing, that he had won, and the prince, who typically got what he wanted, had lost. She rolled her eyes, skillfully ignoring his antics. The sky darkened even more, and within a few minutes, the soft patter of rain sounded against the roof and windows.

Crowe's pencil flew across the paper, and she stuffed her finished homework in her bag. Before Beetlejuice could ask what the rush was, she'd run up to her room, tossed her bag on her bed and disappeared into her closet. She came out a minute later, wearing a black and purple rain coat and black plaid rubber boots. "Babes? What're you doing?" "Going out into the rain. Me, and mom, and dad always would go out and take walks in the rain, or play in the park, or in the mud. I haven't in a long time, and just wanted to today. Wanna come?" she asked. "Why not? Rain, mud, sounds good to me," he followed her into the back yard, just watching for a bit while Crowe spun around in the torrential rain, laughing and stomping in the giant mud puddles forming. "You call that stomping? Watch this," Beetlejuice flew up to the roof of the house. "Cannonball!" he dove off, landing in the biggest puddle of mud in the yard, splattering Crowe and coming up spitting out brown water and covered from head to toe in sticky mud. "Ten for style, ten for skill, but…maybe a six for the landing," Crowe applauded, not caring about the mud plastering her hair to her head and sliding down the front of her coat.

"Thank you, thank you, you're too kind," Beetlejuice bowed low, sweeping his muddy hair from his eyes. He stood up suddenly, flinging about even more mud. "Watch it there," Crowe dodged the mud. His face broke into a wide grin.

"Don't do it Beej."

He scooped up a double handful of mud, forming into a ball.

"I'm warning you. You're gonna regret it."

"Heads up Babes!" he chucked the ball of mud at her. She screamed and braced herself, mud coating her. "Oh you're so gonna get it!" she grabbed mud and grass and hurled it at him. It hit him in the face, and he blinked out of a mask of mud. Crowe doubled over, laughing manically. Another glob of mud hit her, knocking her on her ass in an icy puddle. "B-B-Beeeeeejjjj! I'm going to murder you!" "Little too late there Babes. Already dead!" he swooped around her head, chuckling. "I can still try, as soon as I catch you," Crowe stumbled to her feet, trying to unstick her feet from the ground. "Good luck with that. Forgetting I can fly, aren't you?" he rose up higher and higher, taunting her.

This presented something of a roadblock on Crowe's road to revenge. Unfortunately, he was right, he could fly, and she was short. She couldn't reach him to strangle him. However, she could lure him down. It might be degrading, but worth it in the end. He floated up stretched out on his back, very high up in the air, obviously thinking he had the upper hand. "Oh Beetlejuice!" Crowe called sweetly. He rolled over, glancing down. His eyes bulged. She was looking up through her lashes, her coat unbuttoned and sliding down her shoulders, the top two buttons of her shirt undone. She blew him a kiss. "Won't you come down? Pretty please?" she asked, pouting prettily. He wolf whistled, and rocketed down, straight for her. She held still until the last second, and then moved. He crashed into the ground, sending up waves of mud and grass and water.

Crowe grasped a tree branch for support, her sides aching with laughter. "That was a good one. Oh, I am a genius," she gasped, wiping away a tear. "Yeah, nice one, I'll admit. You think like me," Beetlejuice glared, and watched as the buttons were re-done. He frowned as the coat was pulled back up, and she was covered once more. "That supposed to be an insult or a compliment?" Crowe asked. "Well I meant it as a compliment, but you could just be a bitch and take it as an insult," he said, sliding as he tried to get up and falling to his knees. "I am not a bitch," she protested. "You just proved you were," he retorted. "Well, maybe I am, but just for you. Need a hand?" "Oh, don't I feel special. And yeah, thanks," he took her hand and got up. "I'd say a bath is in order," Crowe observed, looking at them both. "Both of us?" somehow Beetlejuice managed to sound both eager and afraid all at once. "Not both of us pervert. The tub isn't big enough. No, I'm gonna take a bath, and then you." "But I can do this," Beej snapped his fingers and was cleared of mud. "You still smell funny," Crowe wrinkled her nose. "I've worked hard to smell like this." "Well, you can do it again. You're gonna get a bath even if I have to force you to," Crowe said firmly, hands on her hips in a defensive pose. "Do I have-'' "Yes. Now come one,"Crowe pulled him into the house by his neck tie.

"And don't even think of hiding while I'm in the bath," Crowe called while going upstairs. "Wasn't gonna," Beej sulked. "Yeah, right," she laughed. She disappeared, and he waited. And waited. And waited some more, drumming his fingers against the arms of the couch. He hated to be bored, and alone, all at once. "Hey Babes!" "What?" "You gonna be done soon or what?" "You really in that much of a hurry to take a forced bath?" her tone was mocking. "No, but I'm totally bored down here," he answered. "Tough," she said. He growled, softly. "And don't growl at me." "How'd you know?!" "I have my ways. Just wait, I'll be done in a minute. Jesus," Crowe relaxed further into the warm water, watching the steam rise off of it. After about a minute, she let out the plug and the water swirled down the drain. As she dried off, she refilled it with hot water, adding a tiny bit of bubble bath for good measure. Maybe if he could entertain himself, he'd be more willing to get in the tub. She pulled her robe around her and whistled for him.

Beetlejuice appeared by her side, looking apprehensively at the tub of water. "Babes, I really, really don't wanna get in there," he said, practically whimpering. "Come on now, it's warm, there's bubbles, what more could you ask for?" Crowe crossed her arms. "Company?" he said hopefully. Crowe sighed in annoyance, and added plenty more bubbles so it formed a sort of cover. "I'm covering my eyes now, just so you know," she slid her hands over her eyes, and sat on the toilet lid. She heard rustling and then a splash. Water hit her feet. "You can look now," Beetlejuice sounded positively surly. Crowe looked, and giggled. He was up to his chin in white bubbles and water, glaring at the opposite wall. "You're making mountains out of molehills Beej. It's just water," she said cheerfully. "Shut. Up," he grumbled. "Aww, someone's cranky. Would it make you feel better if I…and I can't even believe I'm thinking this…washed your hair?" He glanced at her suspiciously, one eyebrow raised, like he didn't quite trust that she didn't have ulterior motives. "…Sure. Ok. If you think you're up for it," he answered slowly.

Crowe rolled up the sleeves of her robe, and knelt down by the side of the tub. "Pass the shampoo," she ordered. The bottle was handed to her. Before she even added any, she took a good look at his dingy blonde locks. "Beej, there are bug carcasses in your hair," she grimaced. "Really?" he reached up, snatching one and popping it in his mouth. "Ew. That's all I have to say. That was by far the grossest thing you've done all day," Crowe poured shampoo onto his head, smirking when he jumped at the cold. "That was the grossest? Hm, I'm falling behind then," he looked idly at his fingernails as she scrubbed at his hair. She was up to her elbows in suds and his head was covered in them by the time she deemed herself done. "Rinse." "Do I have to?" "Yes. Or I'll just shove you under water," she suggested. He cursed softly and ducked his head under water, coming up spluttering and with his hair slicked down.

"Here you go. Please, just wait until I'm gone before getting out," Crowe handed him a large dark blue towel and turned to the door. "And don't forget to drain the tub," she added, shutting the door behind her. She missed the universal hand signal he flipped her way. He was less than pleased to have been forced into a bath. He smelled like flowers and herbal shit, and didn't have the nice coat of grime and filth he was so used to. It would take him so long to get it back.

Crowe flopped onto the couch, settling in to watch TV, before she scrounged up dinner. There wasn't much, and wouldn't be until her dad got back and they went grocery shopping. But, there were hot pockets, stuff for grilled cheese, she could maybe make pizza bagels, and Beej could just eat bugs and such if he wanted. Speaking of the ghost with the most, he had been upstairs for while. Probably still sulking 'cause he smelled good. And just like her thoughts had summoned him, Beetlejuice dropped on to the couch, expression dark and arms folded stiffly. "Is someone still upset?" Crowe said teasingly. "No, someone's still right pissed off," Beetlejuice snapped. "What is up with you? I mean, don't tell me this is just over a bath," Crowe asked. "I used to be forced into'em at my parents house. I hated it there, bad memories alright? Now leave it," he grumbled. Well, that explained part of his…issues, to put it nicely. Didn't get along with his parents. She doubted she'd ever get to meet his parents if he had a bad relationship with them. But, she hadn't even given it much thought. The way he spoke, sounded like they were around still, and he just wanted them gone. So naturally he wouldn't mention them to her. Fair enough, she wouldn't force it.

"What, not gonna try and make me tell you about it?" Beej said bitterly. "Nope. Why should I? You obviously don't want to talk about it; you shouldn't have to if you don't want to. So, I'll leave it," Crowe shrugged and sat back against the couch. He looked at her curiously for a moment, like he couldn't believe she was going to be that nice about it. "Thanks Babes, appreciate it," Beej relaxed and leaned against her arm, his hair still dripping a bit onto the collar of his pajama shirt. "Anytime. And you don't have to tell me ever, if you don't want to. I can suppress my curiosity this once," she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, grinning. "Just this once, right?" "Most likely." "Figured as much. It's ok. But…do I have to have a bath ever again? I really, really, really, don't want to. Even with you washing my hair, which was nice, by the way. I just don't get along with water." "Oh I suppose not. I'll just buy nose plugs," Crowe quipped. "I don't smell that bad," Beetlejuice griped. "Says you. You smell like…a skunk and old garbage put in a blender, and then someone pushed frappe and then mixed with…a dirty diaper that's been sitting around for a week," Crowe answered. "Really? All that? Cool," Beej said happily. "So pleased I could cheer you up and that you're happy you smell like that. Me personally, I would be offended." "Well, you're not me." "For which I am thankful." "Hey!"

The evening wore on, and Crowe lazily got up before it got too late and heated up a meatball and mozzarella hot pocket. "Want a bite?" she offered Beetlejuice. "No thanks. I'll have a beetle burrito," he said. "Right," she shook her head, figuring it would be best not to ask. He snapped his fingers, and what she assumed to be a beetle burrito appeared in his hands. It was wriggling the slightest bit. He bit into it, and it crunched sickeningly. Crowe flinched, thinking of all the poor beetles taken away from their little beetle families just to be his meal. "Babes? You ok?" "I feel bad for all the little beetles you're eating," she sniffled. "Again with the bleeding heart. Pathetic Babes, really pathetic," he gulped down the last of his burrito. She gave him a look, before smirking and raking her fingers through his hair the wrong way and tangling it worse than before. He batted her hand away, and shoved her off the couch. "Ouch! Bastard." "Bitch." Asshole." "…bitch," Beej fumbled for a comeback. "Already said that." "Well, anything else I could've said, I never would. It's stuff even I wouldn't say, 'cause it's just too mean, and you'd hit me for it." "Aw, you're learning! How cute," Crowe scrambled back onto the couch, her robe slipping down her shoulder. He stared at that one flash of pale skin; it had been such a long time after all. She didn't notice him staring, and obliviously lifted the sleeve up, inadvertently leaving the top gaping a bit. Crowe finished her dinner and went into the kitchen to throw away the paper plate. She came back readjusting the robe.

"Why didn't you tell me my robe was messed up?" she demanded. He gave her an eloquent look. "Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot, pervert. You were enjoying it and didn't want it to end. Momentarily forgot myself there. But I'm back. It's all good," she sat back down, now leaning on his shoulder, using it as a somewhat bony and cold pillow. "You're freezing," she told him. "It happens when you've been dead for oh…over 600 years," Beetlejuice answered, as if it were obvious. "That's a loooong time. But, you don't look like you're that old. Other than being sort of pale and cold, I mean." "Yeah, well Babes, when you die, you sorta freeze at that age, and don't get any older. Otherwise what would be the point?" Crowe thought about it, and saw it did make sense. "Yeah, I guess. 'Cause by know you'd be all dust and bits of skin and bones. And we wouldn't be sitting here gonna be married soon. Hell, I doubt you'd have even met my mom, so-'' "Ok, ok, Babes, stop before you hurt yourself. I get it, no need to go back into ancient history. Sum it up, I'm a very well preserved, very good looking corpse, and that's all you need to know." "Beej, put your ego away before you poke an eye out," Crowe snickered. "Shut up," he moved away quickly, so she slid down and hit the couch hard.

"Oh, so it's war is it?" Crowe demanded from where she was sprawled. Beetlejuice floated to the middle of the floor, trading his pajamas for army fatigues. Crowe found herself lifted and behind a barrier of big thick pillows. A glance over them showed Beetlejuice in the same position. She heard him snap his fingers, and was suddenly holding what looked like a pillow cannon. "Ready Babes?" he called. "I guess so. Would've been nice if you'd told me what you were doing instead of just 'poofing' and having it happen though." "Do you ever stop complaining?" "At least I'm talking." "Feel free to stop anytime." "Oh that's it, let the games begin," Crowe aimed and fired her cannon in one motion, hitting him in the face and ducking down before he could retaliate.

Mini explosions rocked the house as pillows flew across the room. "Just so you know," Crowe yelled as she reloaded, "you're fixing anything that breaks. I'm not taking the blame for you." "Oh all right Babes. For you. But only because if you're grounded, I have no one to hang out with." Crowe snorted softly; he could be so selfish. She aimed again, and the war continued. It wore on into the night, until Crowe noticed it was near eleven at night, and she had school tomorrow, and had to feed her rat. Only by promising to finish the war the next day and allowing him to have some revenge on Clarissa did Beetlejuice let Crowe call a temporary truce so she could get some sleep. Plus, and he'd never tell, he was a bit tired himself. But that was something he'd take to…well not the grave, but he'd make damn sure it stayed secret.

_Rate and review? Please? Reviews are like the piece of cheese dangling in front of the mouse running on the little plastic wheel that is my mind, and they keep him going. If he doesn't get his cheese, he doesn't run. And it's never good if Sparky stops running. Bad things happen. Like I don't update as often. _


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: I would like to point out that I typed this late at night, when I was tired but unwilling to go to bed. So I apologize for any grammar errors or where things seem perplexing. _

The week leading up to Halloween was by far the most interesting week Crowe had ever experienced, no thanks to her husband to be. Beetlejuice was as good as his word, and helped her get revenge on Clarissa. Each day was some different form of humiliation.

On Tuesday, they had science class, and were dissecting frogs. Crowe had tried like her mom had once, and said it was against her religion. She really didn't want to hurt the frog.

"It's already dead Babes."

"But you can be hurt Beej, how do you know this poor little frog can't be hurt too? How do you know I'm not causing it pain when I cut it open with the scalpel?"

"You want me to do it?" "No! You'll hurt it on purpose! I can do it. I'll be nice." For a moment, Beetlejuice watched in amusement as she gently cut the frog open, taking care not to hurt it. She really did care about animals, whether they were dead or alive. As she told him, "dead animals need love just like alive ones. I mean, I take care of you when you're a dog or snake right?" And she did, which is what he liked about her. After the brief moment he allowed himself to be sentimental and mushy, Beej reanimated the frogs and set them after Clarissa. And, seeing Crowe's tearful face when her zombie frog hopped pathetically, unable to move due to being cut open, he healed it. She all but cuddled the frog, naming it Frankie, after Frankenstien's monster. So when it was time to stop the zombie frogs, he left hers alive, for lack of a better word. "Thanks Beej," Crowe kissed him on the cheek.

Beetlejuice rolled his eyes, and said it was nothing. Normally, he would have gotten really creative, and maybe switched the places between the frogs and the class, had the frogs dissect the students instead. But seeing Crowe's face, he couldn't do it. He wasn't usually this nice a guy, but these Deetz chicks just tugged on his withered old heartstrings. Made it hard to say no.

On Wednesday, there was gym class. And they were playing dodge ball. Dodge ball became Crowe's favorite sport after Beetlejuice juiced the balls to chase Clarissa, pelting her in the head and back, then knocking her to the ground and hitting her incessantly until the bell rang. Even then, a few bold ones still rolled after her in the halls.

Thursday was Crowe's second favorite. Beetlejuice juiced Clarissa's lunch from where he rested on Crowe's wrist, nibbling from the dish of dead bugs she'd packed for him in with her lunch. She'd decided to pack her own lunch in her black and purple Skelanimals metal lunchbox. And, so she actually got to enjoy her lunch, she let him catch his own lunch and bring it along. So long as he didn't get caught. Anyway, he attacked her lunch. Her fancy purified filtrated water became slimy sewer water, green with stuff floating in it. Her salad crawled with bugs and worms, and her healthy fruit granola bar thing turned rotten. She screeched after the first few bites, and Crowe and Beej shared a smirk.

Friday was by far her favorite. As it was Halloween, and the veil between worlds was thinner, it seemed to Crowe that Beetlejuice's powers had some extra oomph. He filled Clarissa's locker with giant spiders, spilled mutant rats from her desk, and had her school books temporarily haunted. They screamed and moaned every time they opened. And when she went to the bathroom to touch up her ever flawless makeup, she ran screaming out moments later, her makeup bag filled with snakes. They weren't poisonous, but Clarissa didn't know that. And Beetlejuice assured Crowe that all of the animals weren't real, just really good magic, so she didn't have to worry about them. Frankie was still…alive and hopping, and eating flies. He couldn't see very well, but Beej was willing to give him a few flies and beetles, if only so Crowe wouldn't smack him. The undead amphibian relaxed happily in a large tank Crowe had cleaned out and arranged with frog taste in mind. She convinced herself Axl and Frankie were friends, though Beej never saw them even glance at each other.

Now, some might say all that Crowe let Beetlejuice due was on the harsh side. And some might be right. Crowe didn't care about their opinion, she felt it was justified. And Friday, after all was said and done, Crowe went home feeling intensely satisfied to put the finishing touches on her costume.

Her dad's car was in the driveway when she and Beetlejuice walked up. She had almost forgotten he would be getting home on Halloween. "Daddy! You're home!" Crowe flew inside, throwing her arms around his neck, positively thrilled to see him.

Beej frowned, maybe a little jealous that her attention was no longer solely on him. True, he knew Crowe loved her dad more than anything, as he was all she had. But, he enjoyed being the center of her world for a week, and didn't want it to end. Just as Lydia was the only person he gave a damn about, besides himself, and she was the only person he'd ever met who cared about him, so too was Crowe getting like that. He was indifferent to Ollie, but enjoyed being with Crowe. And it was more than just getting married, getting to the honeymoon and the fun stuff, though that was a big bonus. She thought like him at times, and had a mean streak; something he found very attractive. But she was so goddamned gentle about some things, like animals. However, she seemed to enjoy his company, something only Lydia had ever done. It was like having his Lyds back, but different. There was only one Lydia, and she would _always_ be his best friend, no one else could take her place. But he could make room for one more person.

Crowe sat across from her dad, who was surprised to hear her chattering away about her week. Beetlejuice noticed she carefully left out any mention of their war against Clarissa, and grinned deviously. "So you two are getting along then?" Ollie asked, sparing the ghost a glance. "Yea, surprisingly. We get along really well. He comes to school, as a little snake on my wrist, disguised as a bracelet. Same with coming to work," Crowe added. And to Beetlejuice's relief, she didn't mention the snake incident. She kept her promise. Which meant he had to as well. Oh well, he liked trick or treating, and she would sleep over tonight.

"So, umm, daddy, I know you just got home and everything, but I was wondering, see, Beej is coming trick or treating with me here tonight, and I promised I would go to the Neitherworld and trick or treat there, and sleep over at his place. Is that ok?" Crowe asked, chewing her bottom lip slightly. "Well, are you sure about this? I mean really sweetie?" "Yeah, sure, why not?" "Ok, then, are you all right with her sleeping over? It's not going to cause any problems?" Ollie asked Beetlejuice. "'Course I'm all right with her sleeping over. Why wouldn't I be?" Beetlejuice asked, actually confused about why it would cause a problem. "I have no idea. Maybe you have some sort of a life outside us," Ollie answered. "Hard to have a life when you're dead pops," Beej cracked. "Shut up Beej and leave my dad alone," Crowe ordered good-naturedly. She turned back to her dad, "So, can I? Or d'you maybe want me to stay here, or what?"

Ollie could see Crowe really did want to go to the Neitherworld, and it would only be for a couple days. If Crowe trusted him, then he could trust the ghost. "All right. You can go. And you, you behave yourself, I mean it. If I hear anything from her I don't like…" "Yeah yeah, I know. You'll go all paternal, and I'll be in trouble, there might be a shotgun wedding type of deal, things like that. I'm not stupid pops," Beetlejuice floated up into the air, hovering above them. "Thanks daddy, really. I'm going to go finish up my costume, ok. I'll see you in a bit before we go out. Coming Beej?" Crowe traipsed up the stairs to her room.

She looked critically at her costume on the dummy in the corner of her room. It was basically finished. She'd taken a black dress, cut up the edges so they looked rough and raggedy, and then sewn on patches and a few extra pockets for candy. It looked just like Sally's in the movie. On her bedside table were white tights on which she'd sewn thick black stitches so it looked like her legs had been sewn together and a pair of white fingerless gloves that matched and went up past her elbows. All she had to do was dye her hair red. But the dye just wasn't working.

"Need a hand Babes?" Beej asked, watching her failed attempts. "Can you help?" Crowe asked curiously. "Watch this," he aimed his finger at her like a gun, and she felt her scalp tingle. When she looked in the mirror, her hair was the perfect shade of red. "Oh this is just right! Thanks. Now, cover your eyes." "What?" "I'm changing. You can't look, duh," she poked him in the chest. "Why? Just because you say so? Doesn't seem like a good enough reason to me." "Well of course not. You're a perv." "Am not." "You are. You know it. So look away," Crowe shooed him away. "You're not gonna be totally naked are you? I think I should be allowed a peek. I'm gonna eventually, you know Babes." "Counting your chickens before they hatch Beej." "What chickens?" "I mean, you're being overly confident, thinking you're gonna someday get me in bed with you. How d'you know I'm not going to get a chastity belt?" "Because I'm the ghost with the most Babes. Just you watch." "Yeah, ok. In the meantime, away. I'm changing now."

Crowe made sure he was securely facing the corner, and wasn't about to turn around before struggling into the tights. "Damn it! Ow, god damn tights," Crowe muttered, and the tights tangled and she hit the ground hard. "Babes?" "Don't look! I'm fine," she hissed in pain, rubbing her knee. "Makes me glad I'm not a chick. Getting dressed sounds like such a pain in the ass. Don't know why you all just don't stay naked all the time rather than go through this," Beej fiddled with his tie in boredom. "To make your life miserable," Crowe suggested. "Oh is that it? Are you sure you're all right?" "I'll be fine. No worries," Crowe got to her feet and pulled up the tights. She then pulled the dress over her head and slipped it on. "You can look now," she told Beej. "Nice costume Babes. Good movie too," he looked her up and down. "Thanks. I just gotta do my makeup and put my gloves on, and grab a pillowcase for candy." She bustled into the bathroom to powder her face and use eyeliner to draw on stitches.

When she came out of the bathroom, Beetlejuice had changed his suit. It now looked like Jack Skellington's tuxedo, complete with bat bowtie, and darker circles around his eyes. "The only thing I won't do is go bald for ya Babes," he grinned. "You'd look terrible if you did. So what, we doing that cutsey his and hers matching costumes thing?" Crowe asked. "Unless you don't want to?" "No, no, it's cool. I like it. How do I look?" she twirled and her dress flared around her. "Good, really good." "Ok. Well, my dad's going to want to take pictures. Ready?" "As I'll ever be. Let's go Babes."

Beej took her arm and led her downstairs. "Aren't you cute Crowe!" Ollie snapped picture after picture of Crowe posing and smiling in her costume, with Beetlejuice glowering at her side. "C'mon, smile," Crowe urged. "Why should I?" "Just look happy to be here, please?" "Fine," he forced a smile on his face. "Did you help with her hair?" Ollie asked him. "Yeah, she wasn't doing so good on her own. She needed it. So can we go now? It's getting dark," he griped. "All right. But we're stopping back here so I can grab my clothes and stuff to sleep over, ok?" "Sure, sure. Let's just go before all the good candy is gone," Beetlejuice floated to the door. "Have fun, and be careful," Ollie called. "Yes daddy. See you in a while," Crowe took Beej's hand and followed him out.

"So where are we going Babes?" "Down the rabbit hole," Crowe laughed as she floated along beside him, held up by his powers. "Up the wall?" he caught on. "Completely insane," she added, spinning in wide circles next to him. "Mad as a March fucking hare," Beetlejuice suggested. "Out of our minds!" they crowed in unison, laughing until Crowe at least was breathless. "But seriously, where to? I have no idea where you trick or treat." "Ok, down here. No one I know comes here, and the houses give out major candy. So get us to the ground and we'll go," Crowe said, slinging her black and white pillowcase over her shoulder. He did as she bid him, and they looked up the street to the wide cul-de-sac at the end. "Which house first?" Beej asked, looking up the streets. "Start with this one," Crowe pointed to the large two story house on her right, "And around the cul-de-sac, and end down the street here." "And then the Neitherworld right? For the better candy?"

"What makes you say it's better?" Crowe asked, linking her arm through Beej's, and surprisingly allowing him to wrap his arm around her waist. "It just is. It's sweeter and just tastes better. Your mom loved it. For a while there all she ate was Neitherworld food." "Well, that's understandable I suppose, from the eye-scream. I could eat that for a good long time and not get sick of it for a while," she said. "Trust me Babes, the candy over here is nothing compared to the candy over there. It's the best you'll ever eat. Now, you wanna ring the bell, or shall I?" "I want to!" Crowe rushed forward, and jammed her finger into the buzzer. The door was opened, and she said the magic words which allowed for king size candy bars to be poured into her pillowcase.

By the time they had hit all the houses, Crowe's pillowcase was bulging with candy, and Beetlejuice had offered to carry it. Or at least lighten the load. They paused under a naked oak tree, and pawed through the candy, snatching up choice pieces and chowing down. "Thanks Beej, that's half gone already," Crowe tossed her bag over her shoulder once more, and they went back to her house. "Hey Daddy," she called. "Hi Crowe. Get anything good?" Ollie perused her bag, picking out some of his favorites. "Help yourself. Oh, could you feed Frankie and Axl for me?" "Frankie?" "My undead frog. Long story. Anyway, he's got a dish of dead flies by his tank. A few before bed, and in the morning." "Sure thing Crowe. Just remember, be careful in the Neitherworld," Ollie advised. "Always Dad," Crowe said, and went upstairs to her room to throw some clothes and things in a small duffel bag. "I'll watch out for her pops," Beetlejuice promised. "That's what worries me," Ollie murmured to himself.

"All set Babes?" Beej asked. "Yup yup. Got everything I could possibly need. Just have to say g'bye to Axl and Frankie," Crowe leaned over her pets' tanks. "Good bye Axl. Good bye Frankie. Daddy'll take care of you while I'm gone. Be good, and I'll see you in a few days. Now I'm totally ready." "Then say them magic B words, and I'll show ya how Halloween really is," Beej said eagerly. "Though I know I should be wary, still I venture some place scary. Ghostly hauntings I turn loose, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!" Crowe cried, closing her eyes. When she opened them, she was in the Neitherworld, which was slowly becoming the best place ever to her. "I'll take care of the bags Babes," Beej took her bag, wound up, and flung it far into the distance. "It'll be there when we get there," he told her. "Now for some real trick or treating."

Crowe slipped her hand into Beetlejuice's and followed close. They were in a part of the Neitherworld she didn't know, having only been there once. Thus, she was rightly wary of its denizens. Of course, with her nearly pressed into his side, Beetlejuice picked up on her nervousness. "Scared Babes?" "No, no, what gave you that idea?" Crowe asked, her voice higher pitched than normal. "Uhh, maybe the fact you're practically glued to my side and breaking my hand?" he held up his hand with hers around it, and his fingers fell off. She hung her head. "Not scared. More like really wary about this place. It's…it's really dark and spooky, and not in a good way." Beej regarded her out of the corner of his eye. She reminded him of a younger Lyds, upon her first visits to the Neitherworld. She too had been nervous, for all her self- proclaimed Gothness and love of all things 'dark and spooky'. And she should be. He wouldn't want her out here by herself. So, he made sure he was always with her, to protect her. "Don't worry about it Babes. I'm here to protect you," he told her. "Oddly enough, I feel better about that," she relaxed her hold on his hand, but leaned more comfortably against him.

Beetlejuice sighed to himself. Wasn't it strange that mother and daughter felt completely at ease and safe with him, when he was probably one of the least safe ghosts around? But they never knew. And he liked it that way. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He had suspected Lyds had a sense he wasn't the nicest and that worried him even more, that she stuck around. Or maybe he was just being overly sensitive and paranoid. Either way, he would take care to ensure Crowe didn't find out that he was once the ghost with the most body counts.

Maybe he was going soft in his old age. Once upon a time, way back in…was it the Dark Ages? times around the Black Plague, he'd reveled in all the chaos and whatnot. Not so much in recent times. Some days he missed it, and others, when he remembered all the good times with Lyds, and all the good times that were sure to come with Crowe, he didn't mind so much giving it up. No one around really remembered him like that anyway. Too young, too new to the Neitherworld, or those who had borne witness to it had moved on elsewhere, whether by choice or by his own special brand of persuasion. Back in the old days, he had loved to display his handiwork, but those ones he had wanted gone quietly. Lyds had been his chance to start over sorta, and now here was Crowe, another second shot, which _maybe_ he didn't deserve, but he certainly wasn't complaining, not with her nestled all warm by his side. These here now just thought of him as a trouble maker. Which was how he intended to keep it, if he wanted her to stay by his side. Besides, he liked his work, driving the inhabitants crazy. Wasn't as bloody and exciting as his old line of work, but it was entertaining.

Hours later, Crowe walked blindly down the crooked street, her head buried in her pillowcase, looking for more of those sour gummy worms filled with even more sour sticky goo. "Babes? You might wanna look where you're going," Beetlejuice grabbed her arm and steered her around a splintery telephone pole. "Hmm?" Crowe looked up, her chin smeared with red and green sour gooey filling. "Why? What'd I miss?" "Oh nothing, you just nearly walked into a pole and I saved your ass, that's all. And save some of those for me," he grabbed her bag and sifted through it. "Sorry Beej, that was the last of them," Crowe grinned sheepishly. He frowned, put out, then grinned wickedly. She looked puzzledly at him. Beej stuck out his finger, and ran it along her chin, catching all the goo. He licked his finger clean, watching her through lidded eyes, which if she didn't know better clearly proclaimed _come hither_. She gulped, and laughed nervously. "Want to go back to the Roadhouse now?" "M'kay Babes. Getting tired?" he teased her. "Are you kidding? I'm riding a sugar high. I feel like I just chugged twenty Red Bulls. But we got all the houses. And I want to go through and eat more candy. And get out of this costume and into my pajamas," she added as an afterthought. Both of which sounded really good to him. He _really_ liked her taste in pajamas.

He took her hand and brought them straight to the Roadhouse. "You didn't decorate for Halloween BJ," Crowe observed. "I wasn't here enough to. I've been with you mostly." "You at least need a jack-o-lantern," she persisted. "But Halloween is over in a while," he complained. "Please Beej, c'mon, it'll be fun," she wheedled, and batted her eyes. "Oh all right. But it's not fair you using that against me," he griped. "Yay!" Crowe cheered, and danced along into his house, grabbing various knives from the kitchen. Beetlejuice conjured up the pumpkins, which were orange beasts, almost too big for the table. "Now, stand back and watch this," he rolled his sleeves up and took a couple of the knives in each hand. He became a blur of black and white, and gobbets of pumpkin guts flew through the air, hitting Crowe, the ceiling, the walls, and mostly sticking to Beetlejuice.

He stepped back a few minutes later, panting and dropping the knives with a loud metallic clatter. That had reminded him too much of the old days, and it had felt amazing. But he covered it up. Crowe gasped in awe, gaping at the carvings. One depicted himself, naturally. Another, herself, and it was a beautiful likeness. Another, bats before a full moon. Then spiders and webs. Lastly, snakes chased each other around the curves of the pumpkin. "They're…awesome. How'd you do that?" Crowe asked. Beej smirked at her from where he leaned against the counter. "Years of practice."

Together they carried the pumpkins out and set them around his front door decoratively. Beetlejuice set little candles in them, and the light chased back the thick shadows. When he looked up from the pumpkins, Crowe was gone, disappeared into the house. "Babes?" "Changing. Hang on a sec," her voice came from somewhere in the roadhouse. While he waited, he changed into his pajamas, stretching out on the couch. Crowe came out a bit later, in an oversized Boston Bruins hockey jersey, clutching her stuffed cow McMuffin by the hoof. "Could you change my hair back please? I'm done being a red head," she asked, looking at a strand of her hair. He waved his hand, and her hair faded back to black. "Thank you," she bounced onto the couch, sending Beej almost to the floor. The springs creaked as it settled, and puffs of dust rose into the air, hanging around Crowe's face like small industrial smog.

"Christ BJ, how old is this thing?" she asked, waving her hand in front of her face to disperse the smoke. "Uhh…lemme think, I got it in…was the 16 or 1700's?" he twirled a lock of his hair around his finger, thinking. "Sorry I asked," Crowe muttered. "Shall we just say it's older than me and be done with it? So you don't hurt your twisted little mind trying to think?" "Yeah...Hey! My mind may be twisted, but it's not little. See?" BJ flipped open the top of his head, and pulled out his brain. "Ew!...can I poke it?" she asked, and prodded it. It felt like cold mashed potatoes covered in old Jell-o. He plopped his brain back in his head smugly, having proved his point. Crowe wiped her hand on the couch, and pulled up her bag of Neitherworld candy. "Don't hog it," Beej tugged at the bag, shoving his hand in and grabbing a handful of cockroach clusters. "What's this one?" Crowe asked, holding up a brown spherical candy. "Just eat it Babes," Beej ate his candy, crunching obscenely.

Crowe grimaced, and bit into it. Green filling oozed sluggishly out in a rush of overwhelming sweetness. Her pupils dilated, and she choked. "Too sweet," she gulped it down quickly, and made a face. "You'll get used to it after a while," Beetlejuice fished for more candy. "But BJ, that was almost painfully sweet. I can practically feel my teeth rotting." "Really? Lucky." "Only you would find me lucky in this instance. Now give me back my candy," Crowe yanked on the pillowcase. "No way, you don't even like most of it," he jerked it away. "How do you know?" "I just do!" "It's mine! I rang the doorbell, I carried the bag, it's mine!"

With a wrenching, ripping sound, the bag split in two, candy flying violently through the air and bouncing off walls, the couch, and their heads. "You're fault!" they said in unison. "How is it my fault?" Beej asked, scandalized. "You were being a candy hog and being mean to me. I _could_ go home you know. And I _could _tell Daddy about the snake incident," Crowe said threateningly. "Go ahead Babes. There's nothing he could do that wouldn't be as bad as being sent to Sandworm land." "Oh that's not fair," Crowe sighed, defeated. "What's not fair?" "It's just not as much fun tattling on you if you're ok with it. The whole point of the threat was to see you get in trouble," she explained. "Well, sorry to ruin your fun Babes, but like I said, there's nothing worse than sandworms. Nothing in this world, or any world. And you better hope you never get cornered by one, 'cause I can't protect you from'em." "Why?" Crowe asked, not liking the somber turn this conversation had taken. "I freeze up. Can't use my powers. I've tried, and I think once or twice it worked out, but, y'know, why take the chance?" "Are they really that bad?" "Yeah. imagine a giant purple snake thing, seems like yards and yards long, with a mouthful of fangs, and two sets of eyes, and a bigger appetite for anything that moves than me." Crowe gulped, and laughed shakily, "Are you sure you're not just trying to scare me Beej?" "Positive Babes. I don't joke around when it comes to Sandworms."

Crowe and Beetlejuice sat quietly for a few minutes, each thinking their own thoughts. The quiet stretched thinner and thinner, too thin for Beetlejuice at least. Crowe was used to silence, living in a bubble of it for the better part of eight years. He felt the need to fill the silence with anything, which is what got him into trouble half of the time. The other half was the usual scams and general mischief making that he always managed to weasel out of. Or else Lyds got him out of whatever he had gotten himself into. The question of course now was if Crowe would do the same.

"Hey Babes?" "Yeah BJ?" "If I got in trouble here, through…circumstances I will swear I had nothing to do with, would you help me out?" "What?" "If say…the Mayor was accusing me of putting a Gila monster down his pants…again, or I ruined Good Neighbor day…again, would you help me out so I didn't get sent to the Sandworms? They'd be more likely to believe you than me." "I guess…y'know, I could try. But, I don't talk really well in front of people, I doubt I'd be much good. Hell, they'd probably send you to the Sandworms faster after I've tried to defend you. Then where would I be? Stuck here with a bunch of Neitherworldians pissed off at me for trying to save you. Which isn't somewhere I want to be." "Oh it's not so bad after the fourth…or fifth time. And, as long as you try and help out. The most they'd do to you is give you a 'stern talking to' and send ban you from the Neitherworld while I'm sitting in the gullet of a Sandworm, deader than I am now. The mayor might be a loser, but he wouldn't kill you over something like this." "Oh that's comforting. What if I don't want to be banned from the Neitherworld? What if I show up anyway and hang out here or at the Bootique?" "Then you'd be getting into real trouble Babes. Almost the kind of trouble I get into," Beej grinned widely.

"Now there's something to strive for," Crowe said mockingly. "I'm sure when all the little ghosties and goblins are asked what they want to be when they grow up, or who their role model is, their answer is 'Beetlejuice'." "You'd be surprised Babes. The kids here love me." "I'll just bet they do. 'Cause you have the same mentality and maturity as them." "Do you have to cut me down at every turn?" "It's entertaining. I could just sit here silently you know. I would have no problem slipping back into not talking. Then we could just sit here staring awkwardly at each other." "Hmm…staring awkwardly in silence, or you insulting me every chance you get? Decisions, decisions," Beej said, feigning thinking about it. Growling, Crowe shouldered him off the couch. "Ouch! Again with the pushing me? Can't ya come up with anything original Babes?" "Nothing you wouldn't enjoy, and what's the point of coming up with an original punishment if you don't hate it? If I'm gonna do a spot of torment, I want it to count." "Vindictive. I like it," Beej pulled himself back on to the couch. "Of course you do. You're a little strange like that. But I'm sure you mean it as a compliment, so I'll take it as one. It's either that or I take offense and kick you where no guy, living or dead wants to be kicked."

BJ winced, not liking the sound of that, and thanked every deity he could think of that she hadn't taken offense. "You're a bitch sometimes, you know that?" "I do what I can," Crowe snickered. "Actually, I hadn't known that totally. Maybe you're just a bad influence on me." "It's my job to be a bad influence. I even have a license to drive people crazy," he said proudly. "Do you now," Crowe said, only mildly interested. "I do. Except, one time, it was revoked. I didn't finish school," he ducked his head sheepishly. "What grade did you have to go back to?" "…Kindergarten." Crowe burst into laughter, rolling onto her side until tears rolled down her cheeks. "Kindergarten? You're kidding right? You didn't have to go back to kindergarten." "I did. And I passed, thank you very much. I even looked the part too," Beej added. "Uh-huh," Crowe raised an eyebrow. Beetlejuice changed his clothes in the blink of an eye, to a pair of black and white striped shorts, a putrid green shirt, and a maroon jacket lined in black and white over it, and a black and white cap. Crowe bit her lip, trying not to giggle again. "Way to look like Angus Young BJ," she snorted. "We who are about to rock, salute you," he swept off his cap and bowed low.

"How come you know all this good music?" "For a lot of reasons. One, I like loud driving rock Babes. It's just my kind of music. Two, what else d'you think the dead do all day besides the living? I saw when those bands started, hell; I saw when the guys in the bands were born. And I listened, and stuck with what I liked, and ignored what I thought was trash. Which was a lot you know." "So what did…do you like?" Crowe drew her knees up to her chin, listening to him. "Let me think…well, obviously, AC/DC, Guns'n'Roses, Skid Row, Motley Crue, Ratt, stuff that was big in the 80's. You?" "Same basically, with some stuff from now, whatever really catches my interest." "Hey, Babes, we got something else in common now," Beej said excitedly. "Statistically it was bound to happen at least once or twice," Crowe shrugged, giving every appearance of indifference.

"Where we sleeping tonight anyway?" Crowe asked, stretching out and taking care that her shirt didn't ride up too high. "I got my bed back there," Beej jerked his thumb back towards a room off the living room. Crowe got up to investigate, and rolled her eyes at the coffin bed. It barely looked big enough for him. "Beetlejuice, there is no way I can sleep there." "Aw c'mon, what are you talkin' about? It's plenty big, if we get real close," he called. "Lech," Crowe snapped. "And no matter how close we got, it wouldn't be comfortable. So I'll just sleep on the couch. No worries," she said. "But Babes, it's a sleep over. The whole point it to sleep together, isn't it?" BJ said, his voice taking on a whining tone. "Well you're not fitting me into that little coffin of yours. You could come out here on the couch." "I got a better idea. C'mon," he reached out for her hand, and moved them upstairs, onto a wide, slightly tilted balcony. In the next instant, it was covered with every pillow and blanket he owned, which he cleaned and de-bugged just for her. Crowe gaped at it all, especially the view. The stars, which were typically obscured by all manner of light pollution around her house, shined with an almost blinding cold brilliance here. It was like she could reach out and grab a handful of them. And of course they were different constellations, but no less striking to look at.

"Woah. Nice view you got here BJ," Crowe tossed herself onto the thick layer of blankets and pillows. She cradled her head on her arms, letting the moon and starlight bathe over her. The whole Neitherworld seemed to stretch on forever, like it never stopped. "Beej?" "What now Babes?" Beej asked from where he lay next to her. "How big is the Neitherworld?" "It doesn't end Babes. Can't measure how big it is." "But it has to end. Every place ends," Crowe protested. Beetlejuice rolled over so he could see her. "Babes, this isn't 'every place'. This is the Neitherworld. Lotta dead come in all the time, and none of them wanna be 'living' all close to each other. Got to make room for them. So it just gets bigger as it needs to." He rolled back over, burrowing under the blankets while she puzzled that out.

"So, did you say that if the dead don't wanna go up or down, they can come here?" "Yup. But sometimes, it's not a choice. Sometimes, like in my case, you get sent here so you don't annoy the higher ups," he said sourly. "You got sent here?" "Yeah, 'cause after the whole Maitland thing, where I was supposed to get Lyds's family out of their home, they didn't want me bothering them anymore, so they sent me to the Neitherworld. And before that I was trapped in the Maitland's town model. Like I said, for some reason they found me annoying and saw fit to trap me there, and put the restrictions on my name." Crowe thought that over. He had certainly lead an interesting afterlife. She didn't quite know what to say to it all. So, she said the only thing she could think of that made sense.

"Good night Beetlejuice."

"Night Babes. See ya in the morning."

_A/N: so ends chapter 7, on a sort of fluffy, hopefully not confusing point. Apologies if it was confusing. Like I said, it was late when this all happened. Could I still persuade you to rate/review? Please? There are chocolate chip 'thank you' cookies in it for you if you do^^ _


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Eight chapters. Only two more 'til I reach ten. Yes, I can do basic math. Hurrah for me____ anyways, just like in the last chapter, I don't own any of the characters except for Crowe, Ollie, the few OCs. There are days I wish I owned BJ, strictly for the pranks and fun I swear. No, but seriously, we all know Lyds owns him, and their personages are property of Tim Burton and his crew, not me. And that probably won't change in the near future. So, I make no cash from this, just entertainment and the knowledge I'm entertaining you all, my fine readers. So, let's get this show on the road shall we?_

"Hey! Get up! Now! Feed me!"

Beetlejuice groaned and sat up, snarling at his stomach to shut up. What a way to be woken up on the weekend, by a growling stomach. He would have gone back to sleep, but he knew his stomach wouldn't keep quiet, and would eventually wake Crowe, who as he learned was _not_ a morning person. Speaking of the pretty little breather…

Crowe was curled into a ball on her side, rather like a cat sleeps, one arm wrapped tight around McMuffin and the other flung outward across the pillows. Her dark hair hung in a veil over her face, fluttering as she breathed. Her jersey had ridden up in her sleep, until it was right at the top of her thighs, almost too high for her comfort, but not high enough for his enjoyment. But he left her alone this once, and let her sleep. He thought with his stomach instead of his libido as it was so early, and let his soon to be wife enjoy her late morning.

This brought him to another complaint he had. It had been quite some time since he'd seen any manner of action. A hell of a long time, like 600 plus years. Way too fucking long if anyone were to ask him. Which no one did, incidentally. He certainly hoped she didn't think they'd be waiting for the honeymoon. He had no problem living in sin; it was his favorite way to live after all. So she'd better get used to the idea of them getting _really _close. Like skin on skin, swapping spit, boot knocking kind of close. He grinned deviously at the thought, and trudged downstairs to the kitchen to shut up his empty stomach.

The coffee pot, a gift from Lyds one Christmas years ago, whirred to life on the chipped counter, filling the room with the thick, rich aroma of ground coffee beans. She had gotten him hooked on the stuff, and had only fueled his addiction to it over the years, buying him first the machine, then gourmet coffee and a few mugs for various holidays, anniversaries. As she said, one, he was dead and didn't have to worry about any bad effects caffeine could have, and two, there were worse things than coffee. However, the cutsey mugs, when she thought she was being funny were a bit much. His favorite was the orange one with purple bats all over it, and the handle in the shape of a purple and orange striped snake.

"Damn it!" Beetlejuice slammed the fridge door shut, having found nothing appealing there. The same went for the cabinets. All he had was a jar full of beetles, and a box so covered in dust he had no clue as to what it was, and a couple of old eggs. BJ pulled the box down, and blew the dust off of it. Pancake mix…really old pancake mix. Well, mix that up with some eggs and beetles, and that was a good breakfast for him. But it wasn't just him eating. He had to feed Crowe too, or she'd go home. She wouldn't eat beetle though, and didn't like seeing them die by his hand. Unless…unless they went willingly to their deaths, and he found a way to disguise them in the pancakes. That might work.

Crowe rolled over onto her back, almost awake, the remnants of sleep and dreams still clinging to the edge of her consciousness. She inhaled deeply, and got a whiff of coffee, one of her favorite scents. She thought at first that she was home, and her dad was trying to tempt her to wake up with coffee and maybe a croissant. When she opened her eyes, it was not her familiar bedroom walls that met her gaze. The Neitherworld sunrise, in all its blood reds and salmon pinks, with the faintest tints of blue coming in greeted her. It was breathtaking. Not enough to distract her though from her lack of company and the surprisingly good smells wafting up from downstairs.

McMuffin tucked securely under her arm, she made her way into the kitchen, following only her nose. "Morning Babes," Beeje said from the rickety, grease stained, rust spotted stove. "Mm-hmm," she said absently, standing directly in front of the coffee pot with a dreamy look on her face. "You have coffee. Real honest to goodness coffee. Can I have some?" "I didn't make breakfast just for myself y'know," he said, twisting the pan he was holding and expertly flipping the pancake into the air and catching it. "You could have, I don't know. You made pancakes." "You're so observant Babes. It's damn near shocking," BJ slid the pancakes onto a plate and started making more. "Oh shut up. It's early and I'm surprised to see you doing something so domestic, that's all. Maybe I'll buy you a flowery ruffled apron," Crowe snickered, and went on a search for a mug. "You can use any mug except the orange one with purple bats. That's mine," Beeje told her. "Sure, whatever. Where's your milk and sugar at?" "Uhh…milk and sugar?" Beeje grinned at her over his shoulder. "You don't have any? Beeeeeje! I need that stuff. I can't have my coffee straight up black." "Why not?" "I'm used to it with milk and heaps of sugar." "But Babes, once you go black, you never go back," he cackled.

Crowe smacked him in the back of the head. "Ouch! Did you have-'' "Yeah, I had too. It is too early for you to be being even semi pervy. Could you please get me some milk and sugar?" "You could ask Jacques or Ginger. They might have some. Pancakes should be ready by the time you come back," he suggested. "Fine. But…where do they live?" "Jacques is down the hall; his door's got his initials on it." "How helpful are you," Crowe sniped, and marched down the hall, hoping nothing too dangerous tried to get her while she searched for Jacques.

The skeleton opened the door, very obviously still half asleep. "Hi Jacques. Did I wake you?" Crowe asked apologetically. "Bonjour Crowe. No, I was very nearly awake, just laying in bed debating getting up. What do you need?" "I was wondering if you have any milk or sugar that isn't growing a family of fungus or feeding some sort of bug. BJ made coffee, but doesn't have either, and I can't drink my coffee without it, something he has trouble grasping," she rolled her eyes. Jacques grinned, all too aware of how Beetlejuice could be. "But of course I 'ave sugar and milk you can borrow. Come in, I'll get it," he held the door open, and disappeared into the kitchen. A few minutes later he came back, and handed her a small pitcher of milk and a cup filled with sugar. "Thanks Jacques. I appreciate it, really," Crowe sighed gratefully, and went back to BJ's kitchen. The ghost with the most was, unsurprisingly, stuffing his face. "Saved ya some," he gulped down a mouthful, and pushed a plate across the table towards her. "How thoughtful," Crowe muttered, and sat down, pouring just the right amount of milk and sugar into her coffee and sipping it, enjoying the warmth.

"These have to be the best pancakes ever," she shoved a mouthful of the light fluffy breakfast into her mouth and blissfully savored it. "What's your secret?" "Little of this, bit of that, y'know," he shrugged non-chalantly, not answering. Which said she probably didn't want to know. Wisely, she left it alone, and enjoyed the pancakes, which had a curious almost nutty flavor.

Tapping in the ceiling signaled Ginger's arrival minutes before the pink spider herself dropped down. "Morning guys! Whatcha eating?" she asked, bright eyed and bushy tailed as usual. "BJ made pancakes. They're awesome," Crowe gushed, thoroughly loving her breakfast. Beetlejuice looked up, eyes widening, suddenly remembering he'd made this breakfast before, and told Ginger the recipe, since she wanted to try making it for herself. "Ooh, are those the beetle pancakes you made before Beetlejuice?" Ginger asked curiously. Crowe's fork hit the table, clattering and sliding to the edge. "Beetle…pancakes? There are beetles in these?" she asked slowly. "You didn't know?" Ginger blinked at her. "It's what gives'em the nutty flavor. You didn't tell her?" "Yeah, you didn't tell me Beej? When did you plan on telling me?" Crowe demanded. "I…uh…wasn't gonna. I was just gonna let you enjoy'em," he mumbled, avoiding her gaze. "You know how I feel about the poor bugs getting killed," she crossed her arms defiantly. "I didn't kill them. They went willingly to be ground up, honest," he insisted, a halo appearing over his head. "Uh-huh. You can't fool me BJ. That halo's held up with two horns I bet. So what about the beetles in my breakfast? What am I supposed to do about this," she gestured to her plate.

"Just eat it Babes. You liked it didn't you? Or I'll eat it," Beej offered. "No, they're mine," Crowe pulled her plate closer to herself. Beetlejuice smirked, showing all his teeth. "Proves nothing. I just don't share well, and, there's only a few bites left, I won't see them go to waste." "Keep telling yourself that Babes. Pretty soon, bet I'll have ya on an all bug diet like myself," Beej preened. "Doubt it. You can try all you want, but you will not have me eating strictly bugs in this life or any other." "But they're so tasty. And a good source of protein. How else you think I keep looking so good?" "I didn't think about that, never crossed my mind you looking good." "Not even noon and you're already insulting me." "I like to get a head start."

Ginger giggled at the pair, drawing attention to herself. "What?" "What's so funny Ginge?" "Nothing, nothing, go on arguing." "Do you get the feeling we're being made fun of?" Crowe quietly asked Beej. "Yeah, a little bit." Crowe finished her pancakes, and put her plate in the sink. "Hey Ginger, wasn't I supposed to have a bachelorette party, with some sort of male strippers?" she said innocently. "Well, let me know when you two are getting married, and I'll plan the party for a week before. Not going to be much of a party though. You, me, the Monstress maybe." "The Monstress?" "The Monster Across the Street's sometimes girlfriend. You ok with that?" "Sure. And who says three isn't a party?" "Very true hun. So like I said, just let me know." "Will do." "I'm right here ya know Babes," Beej said grumpily. "What? Is my not quite husband yet jealous of the thought of me having a girls' night in with a few dead male strippers?" Crowe teased bitingly. "Well, when ya put it that way…yes!" Crowe and Ginger shared a knowing look. "Lemme guess, you don't share very well either?" "No, sharing was never something I did good at Babes." "Aw, but I promise I'll be good. Ginger and the Monstress will make sure of that. Besides, you'll be enjoying your night on the town with the boys with your own scantily clad entertainment I'm sure. Seems like a fair trade doesn't it?" "Ok, but do I have to make the same promise to behave?" "Yeah, of course you do." "Damn it." "I know. Sucks don't it?" "Sucks the big one."

Breakfast plates littered the kitchen, all the food, even Crowe's finished. "Do you have work today Babes?" BJ asked. "Not today, but tomorrow and Monday after noon, right after school, until the mall closes." Crowe followed him into the living room, though she went through the door way, not the wall. "I can stay here for most of the day. And I brought movies." "Who said you could stay here? What if I have plans?" "Oh please. What plans could you possibly have?" she asked skeptically. "Various things you probably don't wanna hear about. And for another thing, who said I want you to stay here all day?" "Don't even try that Beej. You love having me here I bet. Probably get your kicks arguing with me right?" Beetlejuice furrowed his brow thoughtfully. "I guess so. It's got entertainment value." "And as you're entertained, that's all that matters, right?" "Now you're getting it Babes."

"What's for watching anyway?" Beetlejuice snooped through Crowe's duffel bag. "Nice knickers Babes," he held up a pair of black boy short style underwear with pink ruffles. "Give me those! And stay out of my bag. I'll get my movies myself," Crowe snatched her underwear away, blushing brilliantly, much to his amusement. She sifted through her belongings and found the two DVDs. "_The Crow_ and _Sweeney_ _Todd_. Two of my faves. You got some way to play these?" Beej waved his hand at the TV, and a Neitherworld-esque DVD player appeared. Crowe crawled over to it, and popped in _The Crow_. "What's this flick about Babes?" Beej asked, stretching out on the couch. Crowe leaned back against the couch on the floor. "Just watch it and you'll see. Now hush."

Curiosity over the movie outweighing his dislike of being told what to do, Beetlejuice sat back and dimmed the lights in the living-dead room. He glanced down and saw Crowe was staring intently at the TV, ignoring everything that wasn't the movie. Which he was sure she'd probably seen billions of times before. "Babes?" "Shush! Movie, watch it," she whispered. Growling, he slid to the floor to sit next to her, shifting into the striped dog and laying his head on her lap. She absently scratched behind his ears, and his tail thumped against the floor. "Aren't ya gonna watch BJ?" Crowe asked. "I am watching, sort of. I can see it well enough. I'm just more comfortable down here." "Oh. Ok then. If you're sure then."

Ginger peeked into the room, watching the pair together. "What are you doing Ginger?" Jacques asked, looking around the corner. "Shh! I'm watching them two. They're having a Saturday morning movie fest together, and not really fighting," Ginger answered, still watching. "Mon Dieu," Jacques said softly, awed. They stepped back into the kitchen, leaving them alone. "What does this mean?" the skeleton asked. "Means we might be planning bachelor and bachelorette parties really, really soon. Wedding bells are definitely in the air," Ginger nodded wisely. She could tell, obviously, even if they couldn't, that they were practically smitten with each other, even while they argued. "Oh oui, no question about zat. Well, I'm off to go jogging. Bonjour," Jacques went for the door. Crowe and Beetlejuice winced at the sudden light. "Shut the door!" BJ yelled. "My eyes! Too much light," Crowe moaned, covering her eyes.

Mercifully, the door swung shut, and the room was once more cloaked in gloom, despite it nearing midday. Beetlejuice settled once more on Crowe's lap, watching the movie somewhat. He sat up as Eric stuck Tin Tin's knives in him. "Hey this movie just got interesting!" "Glad you're enjoying it. but your tail is drowning out the sound," Crowe shoved him lightly to get him to stop wagging his tail. "I can't help it Babes. I love a movie with a lotta action and bloodshed. This one's getting good," BJ bounded around Crowe, purposely wagging his tail in an exaggerated, obnoxious way. He snickered to himself, and it ended in a yelp as his tail was yanked hard. He changed back to his usual self, glowering at her. "It's what you get for being an ass," she said smugly. "You just wanted an excuse to grab my ass Babes," he retorted. "Yeah, that's it totally. 'Cause you have such a cute butt," she rolled her eyes at his ego. "I know I do. Knew you'd notice eventually. I almost won a beauty pageant y'know," he informed her. "Almost doesn't count BJ, accept in hand grenades and horseshoes. And I thought beauty pageants were for women?"

"They were Babes, but I changed that, to try and win the ton o'cash. But I didn't. But I should have, I was perfect at everything, especially the swimsuit portion. I mean, look at me," he poofed and stood posing in his dorky swimsuit. Crowe shook her head, "I simply can't see how you lost Beej. Looking like that…damn, must've been beating the female contestants off with sticks." He grinned, showing his crooked teeth, and that he had enjoyed the attention, even if it was only in his mind. He really thought he was a ladies' man. And maybe to some ladies, he was. However, those were the ladies that she suspected were a dime a dozen, the ones that had to be on street corners in the dark recesses of the Neitherworld, like they were in her world. But what about her? She wasn't saying she'd just automatically throw her clothes and caution to the wind for him, and devil take the hindmost, but, she was finding him more and more…charming in a crass sort of way. She gagged internally.

"Babes? Hey, Babes. Crowe!" Crowe startled, and blinked at Beetlejuice slowly, like one rising from sleep. "What? What'd I miss?" "Well, I would say the sight of me in my swim suit stunned you speechless, but I kinda doubt that. It'd be nice, but can't have everything. I dunno what happened to ya Babes. You just sorta zoned out. Doing some deep thinking?" "You could say that. And before you ask, no, I'm not gonna tell you. My thoughts are my own, and I'd like them to stay in my own head. So don't even try anything." "Wasn't gonna Babes. Honest," BJ said earnestly, but Crowe could see the glint in his eyes belying the professed innocence. "You're a dirty liar Beej," she sighed, and turned back to the movie. "Aw, thanks Babes, that was the nicest thing you said to me all day." She flicked him in the head, and hissed at him to shut up so she could watch the movie.

The two watched as Eric delivered thirty hours of pain to Top Dollar and sent him tumbling to be skewered on the church spire, blood gouting from the gargoyle's mouth. Beetlejuice suppressed a cheer at one of the best deaths he'd seen in a movie. Crowe was watching, and as he watched her, he saw tears gather at the corner of her eyes, and sluggishly trickle down her cheeks. He stole a glance at the screen, and saw Eric was finally being reunited with Shelly, and Sarah was saying the final words.

"When someone we love is stolen from us, the way to have them live on is to never stop loving them. Buildings burn, people die, but real love is forever."

"Babes?" Crowe sniffled, and looked at him, eyes puffy. She grinned lightly. "Sorry. I just can't help it, I always cry at the end of this movie. It gets to me," she laughed softly, as if to say 'lame isn't it?' "You need a tissue or something?" "No, I'm fine. Honest. Just got to switch up the movies. I don't really cry at the end of _Sweeney Todd_ so no worries there. You'll like this one I bet. Even more bloodshed than _The_ _Crow_." "Really? You're not just messin' with me right Babes?" Crowe bit her lip, wondering if she should tell him it was a musical with bloodshed. He'd probably not want to watch it with her, and she wanted to watch it with him. "No, I'm not messing with you. There's lots and lots of blood spraying all around. Buckets of it even. I promise."

Contented, Beetlejuice propped himself against her shoulder, pulling a pillow down to sit on it. Crowe started the movie, and they both got comfortable. "Well, it's already got my interest," he said, watching the blood in the opening title. She nodded, not wanting to ruin it for him. She counted down until that rather attractive sailor who helped Sweeney started singing. _Three…two…one…_ "Babes? Uhhh….there seems to be more singing than you mentioned. In fact, you didn't mention any singing at all. And where's the bloodshed I was promised?" Crowe sighed. "There's gonna be blood soon Beej. Just be patient. As for the singing, well, it's a musical. Based on a play from I think the 1800's. Y'know, about the mad murderous barber? And there was signing in that. I didn't tell you 'cause I wanted you to stay and watch it with me. Is that so bad?" "No, I guess no," he sounded sulky. After a minute, he startled. "I think I've heard of this. Or maybe seen it. It looks sorta familiar." "Maybe you did. Do you…do you remember a lot from way back then? Like, how you died or anything?" Beej gave her a considering look, which she returned until he answered. "Not really Babes. It's been a loooooong time since then, and I've done so much since then, it kinda starts to blend together, and gets faded. It's not really important anyway. All that really matters is now right?" "I suppose. What did you do then, that you forget? A lot of debauchery I'm sure, things that would likely get you in trouble." Her guesses were confirmed by his suggestive smirk. "Thought so. Ok, well, there should be some bloodshed soon enough. All right?" "All right Babes. I can wait, maybe. I can try anyway."

He was not disappointed. The singing was easily tuned out, though he did have Crowe singing along quietly to herself, which was entertaining, since she did have a good set of pipes on her. But he was more interested in this guy, who was a genius, killing people for revenge. And then his chick making'em into pies. No one would ever know. It was hilarious, to him anyway. But it said something about people, that they could eat the 'delicious' pies, and then the minute they found out what was in it, they freaked. It no longer tasted good. Kinda like Crowe with the beetles in the pancakes, but she still ate them. He actually clapped at the end of the movie, until Crowe took the disc out and put it in the case.

"What d'you wanna do now Babes?" "I myself want to take a shower, and get dressed. After that, I don't know. What do you have to do here?" "Could take you to the Shocking Maul, if you want," BJ offered. "A mall? I'm in. Just let me take a quick shower and get dressed," Crowe took her bag up to the bathroom. She almost asked why he had a shower if he didn't take them, but he wasn't the only one living there. Jacques and Ginger probably made use of it on occasion. She showered as quick as she could, braiding her hair and changing into a pair of jeans with a black and red plaid strapless dress over it, and a pair of red converse hi tops with black ribbon for laces. She lined her eyes in black and pulled a black hoodie on and counted herself ready. All in only 15 minutes. Probably a record.

"What took so long?" "Excuse me? I was ready in 15 minutes. All this, in less than a half hour. Not my fault you're impatient. Are we taking Doomie?" "How else would we get there?" "I don't know, your preferred method of travel, the disappearing-reappearing thing?" "Doomie's better though. So let's go. And don't expect me to buy you anything either." "I wasn't. No, having to pay for my own eye-scream completely broke the idea of the guy paying for everything. I guessed I'd be paying for myself a lot. So I brought money," Crowe trailed after him to the waiting dragster. Doomie beeped in greeting, and Crowe pat him gently on the hood. He revved his engine softly, almost like a purr of pleasure. "I think he likes me," she chuckled. Beej rolled his eyes and plopped into the driver's seat. "Going to the Shocking Maul Doomie. Think you can get us there?" Doomie revved louder in affirmation.

Crowe stiffened at the cobra seat belts, never going to get used to it. Doomie pulled onto the road, and it was all going fine. She was very tense in her seat, but not to the point of ready to cry or in any way embarrass herself. Which was good. For once, she felt, if not fine, at least slightly ok being in a car. Until Beetlejuice cursed, and muttered a soft "Oh hell no." "What? Oh hell no what Beej? Please don't say that!" Crowe's voice rose up as she tried to ascertain what the problem was. She noticed Doomie had stopped, and was quivering. Far up the street she could hear barking and growling. "Beej? What's happening?" "Doomie likes to chase dogs," he answered quietly. "What?" "Babes, I can't explain right now. Just close your eyes, and hold on tight, and hopefully, it'll be over soon." Crowe whimpered, but did as he said.

With her eyes clenched tight she couldn't see that Doomie's paint job was changing from yellow to crimson, or that his front tires were becoming more like big paws. But she could feel that it was like he grew fur, and was trembling. And she could hear the roaring of his engine, and BJ trying to gain some control of him. But Doomie had never really listened when he got to this state, and took off like a shot after the trio of Neitherworld mutts, the force shoving Crowe back into her seat. She yelped, and clung to the door, her almost calm washed away by a wave of renewed terror. Beetlejuice spared her a worried glance, but turned his attention back to getting Doomie off the chase. Luckily, or unluckily depending on if the Mayor saw, Pinky was parked not far away, and the dragster noticed, at once changing back into his lovable yellow self, screeching to a halt next to his girlfriend Pinky.

"You ok Babes?" Beej asked Crowe softly. Crowe lifted her head, and he could see she was terribly pale and pasty looking, her eyes seeming too big for her face. "Wh-what the hell was that?" she asked tremulously, her voice cracking. "He's got an abnormal brain, so he changes like that sometimes. Mostly just to chase dogs. Anyway, like I said, are you ok? You look, well, you kinda look dead. You're not are you?" Crowe checked her pulse, and felt it slamming away far too fast. "Oh yeah, still alive. I mean, feel my pulse," she held up her wrist, and he felt her pulse, rushing in her veins. "Yup, still alive then. Ready to go on?" She nodded. "Hey Doomie! You can talk to her later, get us to the mall. I shouldn't even let you talk to her though, after you scared Crowe like that," Beej yelled at the car. Doomie seemed to deflate apologetically, and trundled along. "Oh, don't yell at him BJ. I'm fine, really. It's ok Doomie," Crowe said consolingly. She could sense a question in him, like if he was asking if she really wasn't mad. "I'm not mad at you. I just…don't really like driving much. Long story. And you startled me bad. But I'm really fine." She looked at Beetlejuice. "You could apologize for yelling you know. You didn't have to." "But Babes," he whined. "Beetlejuice, it's not a big deal. Just say you're sorry." He grumbled, but apologized all the same.

The mall had the same set up as any other Crowe had ever visited. And yet it was very obviously different. The food court sold things like pizza with rotten toppings, or candy coated insects and pond scum shakes. The clothes stores sold clothes the likes of which she hadn't ever even imagined, clothes that seemed alive almost, and potentially dangerous. The denizens of the Neitherworld bustled about like any other mall rats, but they all looked so strange, yet so at home, she instantly accepted it, and blended in with Beetlejuice at her arm, crunching on the caramelized cockroaches he'd conned her into buying for him. She only intended to window shop, and not buy anything. There'd be time for it later, after she got the measure of it and asked to be brought back another day. However, plans can change.

"Ooh, sooo pretty," she all but cooed, looking at the bracelet. It was made up of tiny bats strung together, their wings stretched out and touching tip to tip. The bats were made up of what looked like tiny black diamonds, with rubies for eyes. It lay on a pearly silk pillow in the window of the jewelry store, starkly black against all the white. "Why don't ya get it Babes? It'd look great on ya," Beej ate his last cockroach. "I'll bet it's really expensive though. I could never afford it," she murmured sadly. "I bet you could. Just ask Babes, c'mon," he led her inside, with a trick up his sleeve.

"I told you it looked good," Beej held up her wrist with the bangle on it, adjusted 'til it fit just right. "Yeah, but I know I can't afford it BJ. We should just go, I don't want to tease myself with something I want but can't have," Crowe turned away to undo the clasp. While her back was turned, Beetlejuice took aim at the store owner and juiced him. When he came back for Crowe to hand it over, he urged her to at least ask what the price was. Crowe sighed, and asked. Beej smirked as the man named a price far lower than what the bracelet was worth, and Crowe's eyes widened in shock. "Told ya so Babes. Buy it. consider it an engagement gift from me." "'Kay!" she rushed up to pay for it, and clipped it back around her wrist. He waited for her outside the store, leaning against the wall.

As she handed over the money, Crowe thought about her good luck. In fact, it seemed a little too lucky. The store owner didn't seem to care that he was getting less money, and as she looked closer, she could see his eyes were glazed. And the whole 'consider it a gift from me' thing didn't sit too well with her either. She found Beetlejuice outside waiting for her. "Beej, did you do something to that guy?" she demanded right away. He pushed away from the wall. "Already with the interrogation Babes? Not even foreplay? Geez," he pretended to look hurt. "Don't give me that. What did you do?" "I just helped you along. You really wanted it didn't you? And what he was asking for was way above what it was worth. I did mean it as a gift. I remember how upset you got when the bimbo broke your other bracelet, thought this might make it up to you," he shrugged. Crowe softened; she couldn't help it. And before she gave it too much thought, she leaned up and gave him a light kiss on the cheek, whispering "Thanks" in his ear.

With his arm wrapped around her waist they walked the rest of the mall, not buying anything else, simply wasting the day away. It wasn't until the sun was setting that Crowe mentioned going home. She had work the next day after all, and hadn't seen her dad in a while. Beetlejuice conceded with a muttered "Whatever Babes." They stopped by his house to grab her stuff and say good bye to Jacques and Ginger, then disappeared back into her room, just in time for dinner. That night Crowe fell asleep in her own comfortable bed, with BJ the dog sprawled at her feet.

_A/N: just thought I'd post this little note here. If Beetlejuice appears sort of at odds with the rather…let's say evil description I've described, it's 'cause Lydia and now Crowe really are the best things to happen to him. And he honestly doesn't want to screw up. However, his bad side will come out eventually. Just not right now. Not for a while. Anyway, reviews of constructed criticism or compliments are always appreciated. Flames…not so much. I don't really care for not nice things said about my fic. But then again, does anyone care for that? I don't know. But like I said, me likey reviews. Mucho thanks._


	9. Chapter 9

_I can only claim credit for the plot line, and the OC's of Ollie and Crowe, and few others. Beetlejuice and all those in the Neitherworld do not, unfortunately belong to me. I cannot claim credit for them, and I don't make any money off this. Though it would be sweet if I did. Oh well. Can't have everything I suppose._

Crowe peered excitedly out her bedroom window, her eyes lighting up at the sight before her. Her whole back yard, the whole town really, appeared to be covered in thick vanilla frosting. Christmas vacation had started the day previous, and started with a snowfall that hadn't stopped until only hours before. There were a couple of feet on the snow, and she couldn't have been happier about it.

November had passed uneventfully, minus Thanksgiving, where Crowe insisted on inviting Jacques, Ginger, the Monster across the Street, and Poopsie, as well as Beetlejuice. The dinner had gone surprisingly well, except for a few instances ("Beetlejuice, you put one more beetle on your mashed potatoes and I'm banishing you to the little kids' table!" "We don't have a little kid table Babes." "I'll make one just for you!"). Now Christmas was a in a week, and Crowe was once more frustrated with Beetlejuice. Well, more than usual.

The thing was, he wouldn't give her a good idea of what he wanted for Christmas. She had already bought presents for her other Neitherworld friends. For Ginger, a foot Jacuzzi bath and a pink bag to carry her tap shoes in. Jacques got a jacket to go jogging in and a new high tech pedometer. She bought a collar for Poopsie and a new pair of gloves for the Monster Across the Street. She even bought a present for Doomie, which was an electric seat warming blanket, for the days when it was really, really cold. But she couldn't think of what to get BJ. A bag of beetles just didn't seem enough. And he wouldn't tell her what to buy. He just responded with "Whatever Babes. I'm not picky. Just get anything." But she couldn't get him just anything. If she didn't get something he really liked, he would only complain. She didn't want to listen to him complain. However, she could clear her mind for a while ice skating on the small pond that had formed over the years in the back yard of where her mom and grandparents had lived.

After a quick breakfast of chocolate pop tarts, Crowe pulled on a pair of jeans with knee high wool socks, black winter boots, a dark green sweater, a thick jacket, gloves, scarf, and black plaid hat with ear flaps lined with faux fur. She grabbed her ice skates and laid them by the door, and rushed back up to wake her best friend.

"Beej! Wake up Beej! C'mon, we're going ice skating. Wake up!" "Don't want to. Go away Babes," Beetlejuice burrowed under the blankets and pillows on her bed. "Aw, c'mon, it'll be fun," Crowe pleaded, pulling the puppy eyes, so when he rolled over to glare at her, he got the full effect. "No, no, no, no. Don't even try it," he growled, pulling the blanket over his eyes. Ok, so he wanted to play hard ball. She'd play hard ball like he'd never seen. She tucked her gloves in her pocket and grabbed a hold of his ankles. She pulled him out from under the blankets, ignoring his cursing. He latched onto the bed posts, and as she tugged on him, his arms stretched out. He glared at her over his shoulder from where he lay mostly on the floor, radiating displeasure at the rude awakening.

There was a snap as BJ locked his hands around the foot of the bed. "I'm not going anywhere this early in the morning Babes. You don't have a snowball's chance in hell of getting me to go play with you in the snow so goddamn early." Crowe narrowed her eyes, determination flaring up. They held each other's gaze like old West gunslingers, waiting for the other to make their move. Crowe made hers before he could even brace himself. She lunged, and tickled his ribs until he twisted his arms nearly into knots and practically begged for mercy. "Will you come skating with me then?" she asked, crouching on the back of his legs. "Yes! Jesus, yes, just stop and get off me!" She scrambled back and stood up. He untangled from the bed and got unsteadily to his feet. "That was playing really dirty Babes," he snapped. "Yeah, it was, wasn't it? Been hanging around with you too much," she smirked at him, and pulled her gloves back on. "Maybe we should stop hanging out then." "No." "No?" "No, I'll deal if it's a choice between not hanging out with you and you being mean to me." "You're mean to me too you know." "I'm not that mean, not to you," he protested. "You used to be. Let's face it; we don't have the healthiest of friendships. We bicker quite a lot, more than most people I bet. And you're dead, and we hang out with a spider and a skeleton. But y'know what, I'd rather have our fucked up relationship than anything like what Clarissa might have. Now get up, and let's go. The day's a wasting." "Fine, but only 'cause what you said was maybe the nicest thing you've said in a while," Beej snapped his fingers and his clothes morphed into winter wear.

Crowe left a note for her dad by the coffee pot and fumbled out into the snow, which in some points was up to her waist. "You want some help making it through the snow?" BJ asked, floating above the snow and thus keeping dry. "Nooo. The whole point is to struggle through the snow, and get soaked and fall and get cold. If I want help, I'll let ya know." "Whatever. Don't come crying to me when you're up to your neck in slush and catching a cold." "Oh but I will, 'cause you're my dearest darling hubby," Crowe answered with false sugary sweetness. Beej gagged above her, despite knowing she was faking the tone. "We ain't married yet Babes. You can go cry to your dad before you come crying to me." "I'll come crying to you if I want. You can't stop me." "Can so." "No way." "Yes." "No!"

"And another thing," Beej's voice sounded very loud across the open field with nothing but the wind whispering across the fresh powder. "Why aren't we hitched yet Babes?" Crowe hunched her shoulders, fully aware he wouldn't like the answer. "See, my dad was thinking, maybe…maybe we could have a spring wedding. April perhaps?" "April?! You expect me to wait 'til bloody April? But Babes!" "Oh come on Beej, it's not that bad. It's already almost Christmas, and then four months from there. The time will fly by. I don't see what the big deal is anyway," Crowe sighed. "'Cause you'll probably make me wait for all the perks that go with the nuptials," Beej muttered darkly. "I didn't say that," she said over her shoulder, trudging ahead of him through a waist high snow drift. In her peripheral vision, she could she he'd frozen at that. "Ya mean I might get perks?" "Maybe," Crowe winked, "depends on how well you behave."

A minute later, he galloped up as the dog, tongue lolling out of his mouth. "I'll be on my best behavior, a good dog," he promised. "Ok, yeah, I'll see how long this lasts," she ruffled his ears."I can do it. Just watch me Babes," BJ bounded in front of her, giving the old Deetz house a wide berth. It creeped him out for one, all the renovations Delia had done taken over by nature it seemed like, deteriorated and faded. Not to mention, it served as too big a reminder of when he'd first met Lyds, and all the times they'd hung out together subsequently. Crowe followed along behind, her breath fogging in front of her. Only a little farther to go, and the pond stretched out in front of them, crystalline and smoothed by wind, perfect to skate on.

Beetlejuice zapped the snow into a large arm chair and lounged in it, more interested in watching Crowe skate than in actually skating himself. He wasn't big on sliding about ice on a couple of thin blades. Didn't do a thing for him. Needless to say then, he wasn't thrilled when Crowe spun into the air a few times, and skated his way, a look of determination on her features. "BJ, come skate with me," she held out her mittened hand. "Thanks but no thanks Babes. I'd rather watch." "Ooh, pretty please? Pretty, pretty please Beej? It's fun," she begged, hands on her hips. He growled, and looked down. "Babes, I really don't wanna skate. I'll just watch you, all right?" Crowe scowled, her brow furrowing. "Fine BJ, but you owe me," she turned and sped back onto the ice, leaving a small mound of slush in her wake.

Crowe worked off her frustrations on the ice, pushing harder for pulling triple axels instead of twos, and leaping and landing perfectly balanced. Why wouldn't he skate with her? Typically she got him to go along with whatever she wanted, she had up until now. But instead he just wanted to sit on his ass and watch. It just didn't feel fair or something. She urged herself out onto the ice, where no signs were posted on the conditions, whether it was thin ice or not. And she was too preoccupied with her thoughts to pay any mind to the world around her. So it was understandable the loud crack, which echoed like a gunshot, startled her into stopping dead and nearly falling. Spider web cracks spread out from her skates, growing larger and wider as they extended outward. Beetlejuice and solid ground seemed very far away all of a sudden, much too far away for her to reach. She opened her mouth to scream for help, and was swallowed up by the ice and the blackish subzero water below.

Beetlejuice jerked up at the sound of the ice cracking. Crowe was staring at him with wide frightened eyes. The next minute she was gone, sheets of ice settling down after they'd separated and sucked Crowe down into the watery depths. "Babes? Babes!" he floated over as fast as he could, and peered down through the ice, straining to see Babes. She was struggling to break through the ice with punches that were growing weaker with each moment. Even as he watched, her hands fell away to drift in the water, and her eyes drooped. BJ grit his teeth, and rolled back his sleeves, aiming his outstretched hands at the ice. Instantly it began to fizzle, and then melt, until a wide hole opened up. He plunged his lengthened arm into the icy water, searching for Crowe. Finally, his fingers brushed something solid, and he grasped it, pulling upward. Crowe collapsed into his arms, soaked and frighteningly cold.

"Crowe, c'mon, open your damned eyes," Beetlejuice cursed softly. He didn't know what to do. He had no breath to give her, and waiting to get her to home would take too long. The least he could do was get the wet clothes off, since they probably weren't helping, and get the water out of her lungs. He peeled back her coat, and did compressions like he'd seen on TV. "C'mon, c'mon, wake up Babes. Please, don't go out like this," he whispered. Water bubbled up from her lips, followed by a cough, and her eyes flew open and she took in a deep gasping breath. She rolled to the side, doubled over, retching water and slush.

"You alive Babes?" BJ asked when she was done, shivering on her wet coat. "Barely," she answered hoarsely. Her voice sounded like she'd been gargling a kitty litter and broken glass margarita. Her throat, all of her actually ached, and shivering seemed to make it worse. She whimpered and curled into a ball. "C'mere Babes," Beej pulled her into his arms, trying to give some measure of warmth despite having none to offer her. "Th-th-thanks B-b-b-beej," she chattered. "Yeah, well, just don't tell anyone I was this nice to ya," he grumbled. His pants were soaked through at this point, and though he wasn't cold, he was uncomfortable. He let her sit for a minute longer, before scooping her into his arms to bring them back to the house. Crowe tightened her grip around his neck, snuggling in, and he would admit to himself that he was worried about how cold she felt. She needed warmth and soon.

Ollie nearly choked on his coffee when Beetlejuice appeared out of thin air in the middle of the kitchen, Crowe in his arms, dripping water and looking pale and blue. "What happened?" he spluttered, mopping up the spilled coffee. "I w-w-went sk-skating, and the ice cr-cracked, and I fell through. Nearly drowned except for Beej saved me. I'm really, really cold," she sniffled, and sneezed. "If all you got is a cold, you got damned lucky Babes. You want me to put her to bed Pops?" BJ asked. "Sounds like a good idea. I'll get you some hot chocolate and soup sweetie," Ollie started to move about the kitchen while Beetlejuice brought Crowe to her room. He set her in the bathroom, and handed her warm pajamas to change into, waiting outside without being told for once. He counted her sneezing eight times, before starting to cough near violently. The next thing he heard was more retching and the toilet flushing.

"You all right Babes?" he called through the door. "Mm-hmm," she mumbled, and the door opened. She looked like hell, and he told her as such. "Thanks Beej," she growled, her voice thick from her already forming cold. Crowe crawled into bed, pulled the blankets up and snugged down with McMuffin. Axl pressed his nose to the side of his tank, looking curiously at her, as did Frankie. She dropped a few flies into the frog's tank, and pellets into the rat's, and they became more interested in their food than in her. Typical pets. She flopped back on the bed just as the door opened and Ollie shouldered his way in with a bowl of Spaghettio's, a mug of hot chocolate, and various cold medicines on a tray. "Just like mom always made if I was sick," Crowe grinned sleepily at her dad. "Yeah. I didn't know which cold meds you usually take, so I grabbed them all. I trust you won't just take them all and be passed out until Christmas?" "Sure thing dad," Crowe sipped gingerly at her hot chocolate and took a tentative bite of her Spaghettio's. Ollie fondly tousled her hair, and left her to get some rest.

"So, Babes, we got Nyquil, Sudafed, Benadryl, and some other stuff I can't even begin to pronounce. Pick your poison," Beetlejuice juggled the bottles of medicine. "The Nyquil. I wanna sleep. I'll feel better after sleep. I don't stay sick for very long," Crowe sniffled and sipped more of her hot chocolate. After a minute, she set the tray aside, and pulled her blankets closer. "I j-just can't get warm. I'm wicked c-c-cold," she shivered, and tried carefully to measure out the Nyquil. Surprisingly, she managed to pour it without spilling, and gulped it down, grimacing. "Tastes awful," she gagged. "Does it?" BJ sniffed the bottle, and licked a tiny bit. His face contorted, and he nearly dropped the bottle. "That's something even _I _won't drink. It's like bitter, and sweet, and thick, and just plain gross." "Yeah, tell me about it," Crowe yawned, the syrupy medicine already taking effect. "Go to sleep Babes. You need it," Beej said, stretching out in thin air above her. "Mkay," Crowe murmured. "Hey Beej?" "What?" "Will you stay with me? Like, now, here?" Beetlejuice looked down at her, almost asleep, her eyes barely open as she tried to meet his gaze. "Sure thing Babes, for you," he landed on the bed, and changed into his pajamas to curl up next to her. Only when he was settled with one arm around her did she finally fall into a blissful Nyquil induced sleep.

Beetlejuice woke before Crowe did, and it was nearly night time of the next day. Crowe he could understand sleeping so late, but he must've really needed the sleep more than he thought, 'cause he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept so long. Typically something happened to wake him up at all hours of the night, whether it was mopey but filthy stinkin' rich Edgar Allen Poe, or the damned spawn of that poultrygeist that had invaded his house that one time. Something tickled under his chin, and he glanced downward. Crowe was snuggled in against his chest, and his arms were wrapped around her, and wispy strands of her hair were what were tickling him. He smoothed them away, careful not to wake her, and tried to go back to sleep. As late as it was, there was no sense in getting up now. Besides, cold as he was, she was like a space heater pressed this close, and he wasn't about to give that up. Crowe was so…alive. So warm, all that blood pulsing just under her soft smooth skin…he inhaled her scent, vanilla and sketch paper, and something else he couldn't quite identify, and labeled simply as _other_, that almost smelled like the Neitherworld. Whatever the scent, it was heady and intoxicating…BJ shook his head fiercely, and told himself to calm down. No need to be getting all anxious and lose his head. That wouldn't be a good idea at all.

It was the silence that finally released Crowe from the cozy blanket of Nyquil fueled sleep. She peered into her darkened room, watching for a moment as the moon slowly drifted across the floor one last time. It was that hour of the morning just before the dawn, that only seems to happen in winter, when all the diurnal creatures are still snuggled down for sleep, and the humans have yet to rise for the day, and the world seems to be holding its breath. Then the sun rises, and the breath is let out, and the sky is awash with pinks and reds, and gives a pale reflection on the snow. No sound came from her room. Frankie was nestled in his warm mud puddle; Axl was hidden under a pile of wood shavings. Even Beetlejuice was sleeping quietly, hardly snoring at all as he held her as close as he could, clutching her like an afterlife line. She chuckled at her own internal joke, and the fact that she could make jokes when it wasn't even 5 AM yet.

That thought sunk in slowly. 5 AM?!?! That meant, she had fallen asleep the night she'd nearly drowned, slept the day after that, and it was the morning after that day. She'd slept for forever. But…she felt better. Which was something. Crowe gently pried Beetlejuice's arms from around her waist, and wriggled out of bed. He frowned and rolled over. Before she could stop herself, she brushed his hair from his eyes, wondering at how it didn't feel as dead as he was. In fact, if she was honest, she'd even say it was almost silky to the touch.

Her stomach rumbled loudly in the silence, testament to the fact she hadn't eaten in a while. Crowe stepped into her slippers and made her way down into the kitchen for a bowl of Lucky Charms. She brought her bowl back upstairs to the Tower, wanting to read more of her mother's diary. She lit the small lamp on the table and proceeded to read more pages, going over the words her mother had written, finding similarities in their handwriting. There were doodles in the margins, many of Beetlejuice, or Lydia herself, of her friends in the Neitherworld, many of which were Crowe's friends now. She read slowly over the chapters that described Lydia being pregnant with a baby girl, with her. When she was born, there was a tiny, but beautiful sketch of Crowe as a baby. Lydia mentioned missing Beej sometimes, and regretted their last argument, but couldn't tell Crowe about him. Instead, she detailed raising Crowe, all the trips they'd gone on, birthdays, Christmases, everything. And then the entries just dropped off…for obvious reasons. Crowe wiped her eyes, dashing away the tears that burned behind them. She didn't want to cry again, she was tired of crying. She would alternatively ask Beetlejuice about things she'd read about. She wanted to know more about the Neitherworld, and there were so many places and adventures mentioned by her mom that she bursting with questions. But she'd let BJ sleep, and finish her breakfast.

He was cold. Very cold now. He cracked open his eyes, wondering where the hell his little space heater had gotten to. She was supposed to be keeping him warm. But no, she was gone, leaving him to freeze his ass off in her room, which for some obscure reason didn't have the heat on. He shivered and sat up, pulling one of her blankets around his shoulders. "Babes?" No answer. He drifted upward, phasing through the ceiling into the Tower. Crowe jumped, nearly spilling the leftover milk in her bowl. "Was it really necessary to scare me like that?" "Well maybe if ya hadn't disappeared on me, I wouldn't have had to go searching for you. You were keeping me warm Babes." "Sorry. I woke up, wanted breakfast, and came up here to read mom's diary some more," Crowe patted the stack of papers. "Oh yeah? Did you finish it?" Beej hovered next to her, flipping through the diary. "I did. And I was wondering, what's NeitherNeither Land?" she looked up at him innocently, having only gotten a vague idea about it from the diary.

Beetlejuice groaned. He had wanted to forget that place. "It's the only place I've ever been in that's worse than Sandworm Land," he answered, grinding his teeth at the memory. "It's the Neitherworld version of rehab, where they try to make you sweet and sugary and…adorable," his face contorted in distaste. "Dare I ask then who 'Snugglejuice' is?" Crowe questioned. Lydia had mentioned him, and there was a slightly smudged drawing on the back of one of the diary pages. "That would've been me. They got to me there, put me in the Jack in the Box, and forced me to be good. I even stopped eating beetles. And Babes, they put me some kind of sailor suit," he cringed. Crowe gasped. "So this is you?" she looked at the drawing. "Uh-huh. Worst time of my afterlife ever," BJ shuddered. "I've got another question then," Crowe searched the pages for another sketch she'd found. "Shoot," he leaned back in the air, getting comfortable. "Why're you in tights?" She held up the picture of him looking like some kind of Neitherworld answer to Robin Hood. "Ok, see the thing is, I was Robbin Juice, helping out Sherweird Forest," Beej began. "Of course you were. Y'kno what? I don't really want to know. Ok? Just, save it for some other time. Right now, I'm really tired still. Wanna go down, curl up on the couch, and watch TV?" "You read my mind Babes."

When Ollie came down for breakfast and coffee, he found the pair curled up under a fleece blanket watching early morning cartoons. "Good morning daddy," Crowe greeted him. "Morning Pops," Beej added. "Morning. I was wondering when you two planned on waking up," Ollie said, shuffling into the kitchen. "Why'd you let me sleep so long?" Crowe called, not bothering to get up. "Crowe, you'd nearly drowned. You caught a chill, you obviously needed it. Besides, you weren't missing school or anything, and you looked really comfortable," her dad told her, coming back into the living room with a mug of coffee. He was grinning in a way she didn't care for, like she was being made fun of, and she felt a blush creep up her cheeks as she realized she was in fact being teased. She realized what it must've looked like, and the fact that her dad had seen her lying all cozy like that with BJ only made it worse. Crowe groaned, embarrassed, and ducked under the blankets, hiding.

"So what are you two planning on doing today?" Ollie asked, plopping down in his armchair. Beetlejuice answered before Crowe could. "We're going to the Neitherworld." "We are?" "Yeah Bab-Crowe," he shot a glance at Ollie, figuring Pops wouldn't like his daughter being referred to as 'Babes.' "Why're we going to the Neitherworld?" "You owe me for making me go skating with you." "You didn't even skate!" "Still made me go, so we're doing something I wanna do. Fairness and all that," Beej grinned smugly at her. "Fine, fine, I'll go to the Neitherworld. Is that ok daddy?" Crowe looked at Ollie, and though she tried to look reluctant to go along with the ghost, her dad could see the eager gleam in her eyes. "Crowe, sweetie, could I talk to you? Alone?" "Sure thing dad," Crowe untangled herself from the blanket and followed Ollie up to the Tower. She sat in the seat across from him and fidgeted and waited for him to talk.

"Crowe, did we ever…have that…uh, talk?" Oh god no. Crowe felt her blush returning. "No daddy, we didn't. And we really, really don't have to now. School and the like took care of that. Anything else?" Crowe stared at the desk, the window, anywhere but at her dad. "You and BJ, you seem to be getting kind of close now, is he…?" Crowe rolled her eyes. "Dad, he's been, for him, the perfect gentleman. Sure he runs his mouth, but nothing I can't handle. Honest. I mean, I thought we were supposed to be getting married, aren't we supposed to get close? Mom was his friend." Ollie sighed, yes, Lydia had been his friend, but she had known more about him. There had been times recently that Ollie regretted having to set his little girl up with that…with Beetlejuice. And he disliked that he regretted it, because Crowe was happy, and wasn't that all that mattered? But she didn't see the way the ghost looked at her sometimes. Unfortunately, that came with the territory of her growing up and coming out of her shell. And maybe that's what this was. She had been such a good girl, this was her way of rebelling, dating the bad boy. But there was the _bad boy_ and then there was what had been cuddled up with his baby girl on the couch. It left a sour taste in his mouth, which he forced away and tried to concentrate on Crowe's happiness. If she liked BJ, then he would try his best to accept that. He let Crowe go on her way. But before he let them go, he wanted to have a chat with BJ.

"Dad wants to talk to you, I'd watch out if I were you. And behave, please," Crowe passed along as she went to her room. "Great, just great. All right Babes, I'll be good this once. Just as long as you remember I'm not the good guy ok? I'm the bad boy," BJ smirked wickedly at her on his way to the Tower. "Of course you are. You're the bad boy, I'm the good girl. Straight out of a middle school romance novel. Now go on and talk to him before he goes all Godfather-ish," Crowe shooed him upstairs and disappeared into her room. She showered and changed into a forest green plaid pleated skirt, thick white cotton knee high socks, a short puff sleeved white button up blouse with a black sweater vest over it. She pulled her hair into two high, tight ponytails, put on some eyeliner and decreed herself ready for the day. She just had to wait for BJ.

Said ghost with the most was lounging in the seat his fiancé had just occupied, examining the unknowns under his nails. Ollie was giving him a not quite friendly look as he tried to figure out how to phrase what he wanted to say. Finally, he gave up and muttered in frustration. "Ok, look. I know you and Crowe are friends, and you're getting close. Really close. Now, she's my little girl, all I have left. You do anything to hurt her and I'll see you sent to NeitherNeither Land." Beetlejuice slipped in his chair, startled the seemingly mild mannered Oliver would aim so low below the belt like that. "You know about that place?" "Just because Lydia didn't tell Crowe anything doesn't mean she kept everything from me. There's lots I know about you," Ollie said, with all the air of a rookie chess player who had just checked a master. BJ growled, and then hung his head, nodding agreement. Besides, he had a devious thought in the back of his twisted mind. Pops hadn't said anything about getting him if she wanted it. Ollie made it sound like he'd have to force himself on her. But what if she consented? Then he was free and clear and didn't have to set foot in that disgusting place again.

Crowe peeked in to say goodbye to her father, with the promise they'd be home that night to decorate the Christmas tree. "Ready to go then BJ?" she walked fully into the room, and Beetlejuice fought not to drop his jaw. Christ but that skirt was small, and her legs went on _forever_. At least in his eyes. "Remember what I said BJ," Ollie murmured. Beej nodded absently, and there was a flash of light. He was suddenly dressed as a jock from an old TV show, complete with coiffed hair and letter jacket. Crowe looked down and found herself in a cheerleader's outfit to go along with Beej's, and her dad was like a sitcom dad, with robe, slippers and pipe. "I promise sir to have her home nice and early," Beej said earnestly. "Honest. We'll just go down to the soda shop, listen to the juke box, maybe go to the drive in. But I swear, I'll bring your daughter home in time for curfew. I know we've got to study for finals if we're going to get those scholarships." Crowe gaped at him. "Well, ready to go honey? We have to go if we're going to make it to the movies. And here, take my jacket, it's cold out," Beej slipped his jacket over Crowe's shoulders, shook Ollie's hand, and lead her away, leaving father and daughter in a stunned silence.

Once the door closed, they turned back to normal and Beetlejuice burst into laughter, cackling almost evilly. "C'mon Babes, lay the B words on me and we'll blow this pop stand," he chuckled. "Ok what the hell just happened?" "That was me messing with your pop a little bit. He was giving me the 'hurt my daughter, I hurt you' speech. I couldn't help myself." Crowe glared at him, arms crossed over her chest. "Hey Babes, I tried to be good. I really did. That actually was me being good. Anyway, speaking of being good, I thought we were going out. I feel like I should be asking if you're going to punish me for my overdue library books," he grinned crookedly at her. Crowe gave him a puzzled look. "You got that naughty librarian thing going on Babes," BJ elaborated patiently. "Oh. Right. Anyway, could you never ever change my outfit like that without my permission again please? I was not ok with that. And also, don't go all football hero. Not a good look for you." "Sure thing Babes. Now, the magic words?" BJ looked expectantly at her. "Though I know I should be wary, still I venture someplace scary. Ghostly hauntings I turn loose, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!" "Yes!" Beej took her arm and lead her into the Neitherworld, and to Doomie, who seemed to be waiting for them. Crowe, having remembered to grab the presents before they left, gave him his, and he tucked it away in the back seat safely.

"What are we doing anyway?" Crowe asked, sitting still and letting the cobra belts wrap around her. "We're going four wheeling," Beetlejuice said excitedly, gripping the wheel. Doomie beeped enthusiastically, apparently agreeing. "We're doing what exactly? Do you mean going speeding through mud and snow over hills and the like for no reason at all? Maybe even doing some donuts while we're at it? Things that could potentially get us killed?" "Yeah!" "Are you stupid?! Have you forgotten that I don't really drive at all? What made you think I'd enjoy doing something like this?" "I don't know. I just thought it'd be fun," Beej said sulkily.

Crap. Crowe cursed herself for sounding so snappish. She actually was getting better at dealing with cars, and she hardly counted Doomie as a car. He was more of a friend. More importantly, she cursed BJ for the fact that he had this much affect on her. Did his feelings really mean that much to her? Yes, as a matter of fact they did. It comes with the territory of being best friends, and fiancés. Damn it. "Sorry Beej. I know you were just trying to be…well, not nice, but you were trying something. I'll come with you. It'll be," Crowe gulped, "fun." Beetlejuice's face broke into a wide smile, and he patted Doomie's door. "All right Doomie, you know the drill." The dragster shuddered and began to change. In the blink of an eye he was the crimson beast of a car, his front 'paws' scratching at the road, itching to go. "We're gonna need mud BJ," Crowe observed, thinking maybe she could still get out of this without being a bitch. "Duh. I know that Babes," Beetlejuice snapped his fingers. At once, the sky darkened, and down poured buckets…literally.

"Beetlejuice! I won't survive a hit from one of these! Tone it down willya?" Crowe hid below her seat, taking cover from the tin buckets of icy water. "All right, all right," Beej eased the rain until it was just one hell of a storm, rain hurling itself from the sky, bass drum thunder to shiver down the spine and make the ears ring, and lightning to throw everything into sharp contrast of light and dark one minute, and blind the next. "Woah," Crowe said, voice hushed with awe. BJ heard her, and smirked.

_Woah indeed Babes._

_So? Good? Bad? Anything? Let me know, please. This chapter was gonna have more, but it was getting too long. So it'll be in the next. Anyways, as usual, I lurve reviews. They give me a happy, as long as they're not flames. Flames make me sad. Well, I assume they make anyone sad really. I don't know. There might be someone out there who loves hearing that they suck and should never write again. I however, am not one of those. So pretty please, be nice and constructive? Thanks^^_


	10. Chapter 10

_I have nothing to say here that hasn't already been said here in the other nine chapters. So let's just skip the formalities and get on with chapter 10 shall we?_

Beetlejuice paused just before he opened the door to the Roadhouse. He couldn't explain it, but he had a sense of foreboding. Like something very bad would happen if he opened the door.

"Beej? You ok? You look, well, I can't really tell under the mud, but I get the feeling you're paler than usual," Crowe stepped up and looked at him. "I think there's someone in the Roadhouse Babes," BJ answered, glancing down at her. She blinked those hazel eyes at him from a mask of mud. They were covered in even more mud than the time they fought in it, as was Doomie. After a minute she flashed him a reassuring smile from the mud. "Whoever it is, we can take'em. No worries." "I wasn't worried Babes. I don't do worried. I'm the-'' "Ghost with the most, I know. You gonna open the door or what? I want out of these muddy clothes and into something warm and dry." "My bed's warm and dry Babes," he leaned in and whispered into her ear.

Crowe took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, grateful that it didn't tremble. "You are going to have to do better than that Mr. Juice, to get me wedded and bedded. I'm not some common strumpet to let you have your way with me for a few coins," she sniffed haughtily. Beetlejuice gave her a perplexed look. "I have no clue what you just said. You sounded like some sort of…English person, high society," he said. He thought she blushed under the mud. "I, um, I sorta read trashy romance novels on occasion. You know, bodice rippers? I think they maybe affected my brain," she giggled embarrassedly. "Riiiiight. And you think I'm the one with problems. Now, those are the ones with the generic long haired muscle guy on the cover right?" as he spoke, BJ changed until he resembled one such character, and made his hair flow out behind him. He looked down at Crowe, and saw she was staring at him with a dopey, goofy look on her face. "Babes?" Crowe shook her head. "Sorry, sorry, my fault. Don't forget, I didn't get out much before you. The books were all I had to teach me about guys and stuff."

Beej shrunk back to normal. "Guys and stuff? Please Babes, that's not real. Guys don't look like that, they don't ride in shirtless on horses, sweep you off your feet, and take you away to the castle they have 'cause they just happen to be a prince, and marry and make love to you. It just doesn't work like that." "I know that. But, it would be nice if it did work out like that, if I was the heroine in one of those, and got swept off my feet. Maybe then I wouldn't get made fun of, and feel, y'know, wanted," Crowe sighed, and gave a cynical little smile. Before Beetlejuice could respond, she'd opened the door, and had it shoved into her.

"Merry Christmas brother!...oh, you're all covered in mud."

Crowe heard Beetlejuice groan from behind the door. "Hi Donny," he said, distaste thick in his voice. "Donny?" she fumbled from behind the door, slipping on ice and having to grip BJ's hand to keep from falling. "My brother," he explained, gesturing to the guy standing in the doorway, grinning widely and wearing a Santa Claus outfit. It was like he couldn't stop smiling if he tried. "You didn't mention a brother," Crowe whispered. "Yeah, well, it happens," Beej answered evasively, gritting his teeth. "Mom, Dad, Uncle Sid, and Aunt Irma are here too Beetlejuice. C'mon," Donny pulled them inside, BJ unwilling, Crowe wary.

Jacques and Ginger were there as well, chatting with BJ's family. Jacques got up right away to greet them. "You let them in my house?!" Beej hissed, yanking the skeleton close. "Beej, let him go, I'm sure he didn't mean to upset you. C'mon, I mean, they're family, they can't be all bad, can they?" Crowe intervened on Jacques behalf, for which the skeleton was grateful. "Oh you have no idea Babes. Just wait," Beej groused. As if on cue, they were called on. "There you are Junior!" "Junior?" Crowe snickered. "Shut it Babes. This is soooo not the time," he paused, and turned to face his family sitting gathered together on the couch. Crowe looked too; it was like the Brady Bunch, or Leave it to Beaver or something done Neitherworld style. She almost couldn't believe that Beetlejuice had come from this. It was so…normal looking. "Now just look at you and your little friend. You're both filthy. Come on now dear," Bea, Beej's mom, took hold of them both and started pulling them towards the bathroom. "We'll clean you both up and get you into some nice new clothes."

"Beej, what's she doing?" "Giving us a bath Babes." "What?! But...but…this isn't going to be like when I made you take a bath is it?" "Crowe, I'd rather you give me a bath every day than go through one of my mom's. Just grit your teeth, shut your eyes, and it'll all be over soon." Bea didn't even explain why the family was there, or ask who Crowe was, or anything. She just plopped them both in a tub of water, clothes and all, and proceeded to scrub them raw. Crowe squeaked in pain, and Beetlejuice, who would never cry out like that, simply clutched at her hand hard enough to leave bruises. Afterwards, they were dried off, and changed into a Santa suit to match Donny's, and an 'adorable' elf outfit bedecked with jingle bells. "Not one word Beej, or I swear…" "Now that's now way for Santa's little helper to talk," Beej smirked, admitting to himself that the outfit looked good on her. "Yeah? Well, what about you, not needing the fake belly to be Santa," Crowe poked his beer gut, and had her hand smacked away.

Bea looked curiously at Crowe. "Oh you must be little Lydia's daughter. You look just like her. We're so sorry about what happened," she said, sounding so sincere. Crowe shrugged, unsure of what to say. "Now, how do you know Junior?" "We're…we're sorta engaged," Crowe stammered. "Engaged? How did…you never told us Junior," Bea scolded her son. "He doesn't write, doesn't call, and doesn't visit. Donny visits all the time you know. He would have told me if he was engaged." "I doubt it," Beej muttered, since he couldn't see his younger brother ever getting a girl. "So show me the ring dear," Bea urged Crowe. "And what's your name?" "My name's Crowe. And I don't have a ring. But I do have this bracelet," she held up her wrist. "Oh, let's go back and join the family and you can tell us all about how you two got engaged," Crowe's new mother in law ushered them out and back into the Living Dead room.

Crowe and Beetlejuice shared the whole story of their engagement, and then got the guilt trip he'd been expecting from his aunt and uncle about not telling them. In hopes of distracting them, BJ asked why they'd come. "For Christmas son. You're always out on Christmas itself, so we thought to drop by before Christmas arrived," Nat, BJ's dad answered. "Donny always makes time for the family to gather on Christmas," Aunt Irma interjected. And they were off again, singing Donny's praises while belittling BJ right in front of him. No job, didn't call, etc. Crowe could suddenly see why Beetlejuice was always so mean, if he was constantly being compared to his brother, and no one had been nice to him. It was a way of protecting himself. He was the literal black sheep of the family. And he was ignoring her too.

"What's up BJ? Why won't you talk to me?" she asked when they had a second alone. "Guess I'm just waiting for you to turn to Donny over me. It's happened before, all the time. He's the nice one, the one everyone loved," Beej mumbled bitterly. "Do you want me to pick him then?" "No! But it's bound to happen." "What did I tell you about counting your chickens? I'm not picking Donny over you. I barely know him for one, and for two, he's a total dork. Look at him," Crowe found herself wrapped up in Beetlejuice's arms before she could continue. "Thanks Babes. Do…do you mean that?" "Sure. You're my fiancé, not him. Nothing's gonna change that. I like you best. Now let me go, you're crushing me and embarrassing us both."

It was true; the Juice family had 'awed' at the hug, and insisted on pictures. Though Crowe and Beej wouldn't repeat the display of sentimentality for the camera, especially not with Donny throwing his arms about them and grinning like a fool. The picture taking lead to Bea bringing out a giant photo album and sitting Crowe down to show her pictures of her husband to be. Beetlejuice was surprised to see she was actually interested, and leaned far away against the wall, watching unhappily. "And here he is as a baby," Bea pointed to the picture. It showed a very small Beetlejuice in a black and white striped nightshirt with curly blond hair, sucking on a toy snake. "You're adorable BJ!" Crowe positively cooed, making him gag and try not to look too pleased all at once. She scanned the pages, and saw him slightly older, trying to drop a Gila monster in Donny's crib, and realizing he was caught, making a cute 'oh shit they see me' face. The next photo showed Donny changing the lizard into a teddy bear and offering it to his brother. The final picture showed Beetlejuice crying at the loss of his lizard to a teddy bear. "You were Prom King?" she asked, looking at the awkward looking teenaged BJ, "with a robot date?" "I couldn't decide on a date, so I made my own to stop all the girls chasing me." Crowe nodded, but not like she believed it. She flipped through the album some more until Bea bustled into the kitchen to make dinner, with the promise to only stay the night.

Crowe took refuge in the corner of the room to call her father while Bea, Irma and Donny made dinner. "Hey daddy." "Hi Crowe. When will you be home?" "…I'm not sure. See, BJ got a surprise visit from his family, who he's not too fond off. And they're staying the night. He needs me to stay tonight. I'm not sure what will happen if he's left here alone with them." Her dad understood, as usual, but made her promise to spend the next day with him to decorate the tree. "What was that?" Beej asked. "I'm staying the night. So it looks like we'll end up seeing just how cozy that bed of yours is," she tucked her cell phone down her bra, the only place she had seeing as the elf outfit had no pockets. BJ watched intently, like a dog watching a t-bone steak. "You could make a girl feel self conscious staring like that BJ. And I think I have enough self conscious issues thanks." "Why though?" "Why what?" "Why the issues?" "When you got Clarissa flouncing about, and everyone ignoring you and saying how pretty she is…it tends to get to you after awhile," Crowe answered. "Don't I know that feeling," Beej shot a glare towards the kitchen, where he brother was. "I know. I saw that. I'm sorry BJ. It's not fair at all that they were like that. But y'know, I think it was in effect a good thing." "What?" "Well, just think, if you hadn't been compared to him, right, you'd have been accepted. And you'd be just like him. And I would not be marrying you, you can count on that."

"So you like me how I am now? You want to marry me?" Beetlejuice teased her mercilessly. "When did I ever give you reason to doubt that?" "How about when we first met Babes?" "Cut me some slack, it was hard for me to wrap my mind around the fact that I was talking to a dead guy, and supposed to marry him. But what can I say, you're not a fate worse than death," her lips quirked as she fought down laughter. He gave her an 'I can't believe you just said that' look. Which only served to fuel Crowe's giggles. The bells jingled as she laughed and fell against the wall. Donny peered around to see what was so funny, and his grin grew even larger, if that was possible. "Oh Beetlejuice," he called, his voice an annoying singsong. "What?" BJ snapped, angry his brother had ruined his moment with Crowe. "Why don't you look above you? We decorated your house." Reluctantly, Crowe and Beetlejuice looked above them. Mistletoe jutted from the wall. "This has to be the most cliché thing ever," Crowe muttered. "Yup." "But you're not letting me out of it, are you?" Beej stood in front of her, one arm on either side of her shoulders, boxing her in. "Nope," he practically purred. "I'm beginning to hate your brother," she whispered for only him to hear. "Yeah, but right now, I don't hate him quite so much," BJ was entirely too pleased with himself. She looked over his shoulder, and saw Donny had wisely made tracks back into the kitchen.

"Hey Babes, don't be looking back there. Look at me," Beetlejuice cupped her chin and brought it back so she was looking at him. She looked eager and fearful at the same time, and he let her see how much he liked that. He tilted her head up, and pressed his lips against her soft, yielding pink ones. After a split second of indecision, which felt more like an eternity and a half, Crowe melded into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck, and pulling him closer, parting her lips just enough for him at the same time. Having no need to breath, BJ could have stayed like that for quite a bit longer; he didn't get to explore nearly long enough. Crowe didn't have that luxury, and had to pull away to catch her breath. Her cheeks were tinged with pink, and her breath was coming in short pants. "You ok Babes?" his voice was gloating. "Shut up," she mumbled, looking away. "Now I know that wasn't all that bad." "No, it wasn't. Ok? Is that what you wanted?" "Yeah, that'll do." "Like you need any ego boosting. I also intend to wound Donny for that. I thought he was supposed to be the nice one?" "He probably thought he was being nice. And are you saying I'm not nice?" "There's no pleasing you is there? You know very well you aren't nice, except on occasion to me. So, what's say we stop the arguing for a little bit and see what's for dinner."

"Y'know, the food probably won't be anything you like Babes," Beej warned, escorting her into the kitchen. "I can at least look can't I? You don't know what I will and will not like." He saw no way to make her change her mind, and so left it at that, sitting next to her at the table his mom had organized. He had to admit, the dinner did look good, though in his family, communal dinners never went well. It was yet another excuse to praise Donny and scold him. But, he glanced down at Crowe's hand in his, maybe he could make it through this one. And then he'd make Jacques and Ginger promise to never let them in again. Maybe change his locks too. First he'd have to get some locks, and then he'd change them.

Crowe let Beetlejuice keep his hand in hers under the table, even if it made eating difficult. He needed the comfort, even if he never admitted it, seeing as he was supposed to be the big bad ghost with the most. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, aware he was only pushing the food on his plate, not really eating it. All he could hear was 'Donny this' and 'Donny that.' It was grating on his nerves, which were already worn thin. Crowe noticed out of the corner of her eye, and squeezed his hand reassuringly, trying to convey that Donny didn't matter, he was better, and it would all be over soon. Indeed, dinner was over shortly, with Crowe managing to eat something mainly by shutting her eyes and gulping it down as quickly as possible. Once Bea had the dishes stacked neatly in the sink, the entire family, even Beej and Crowe, gathered once more in the Living Dead room for idle familial chit chat. Beetlejuice and Crowe leaned against the wall, sitting on the floor and left alone.

"Would you relax and at least try to cheer up? You're bringing me down here," Crowe hissed at Beej. "Well excuse me. I just can't take it anymore Babes. I want them out of here now," BJ tore at his hair. "I don't know Beej, I mean, I don't really like your brother, aunt or uncle much, but your mom and dad are all right." "Oh yeah, they're all right when they're not forcing me to take a bath, or dress like Donny, or get a job," he grimaced. "They're parents, they're s'posed to be like that," Crowe replied wisely. "Well, you're dad's not like that," BJ said sulkily. "He can be. He's all worried about how close we are, and asked if we'd ever had 'the talk'. We never did, he left it to the educational system. Although, I don't think it ever crossed his mind to give me that little speech. I was left to my own devices. But I think I turned out ok." "Keep telling yourself that Babes." "Oh like you're the poster boy for normality. You couldn't find normal with a GPS tracker," Crowe retorted. "Yeah, but I'm not the one kissing dead guys am I?" he smirk was far too smug for Crowe's liking, and she knew she was flushing again. She punched him in the arm, and was satisfied when he flinched.

Fortunately, fairly soon Beetlejuice's family began to yawn and mumble about being tired from the long trip over. The way they spoke hinted at yet another guilt trip brewing and BJ diverted it by taking charge of arranging where everyone was sleeping. With a wave of his hand, he expanded the couch into a bed big enough for his mom, dad, aunt, and uncle. Donny was given the armchair and a small blanket to himself. After a hasty goodnight to everyone, BJ gratefully retired to his room, phasing through the door. Crowe followed, opening the door instead. The bed looked even smaller than the last time, and she doubted they'd both be comfortable on it. Beej saw the look on her face, and snapped his fingers. The bed got bigger. But not by much.

"Can I borrow one of your shirts again Beej? My clothes are still soaked from the forced bath, and I'm not wearing this," Crowe gestured to the elf outfit. "You could always sleep like me Babes, au natural," he grinned at her over his shoulder. Despite his words he changed into his pajamas with a thought. "Ok, like hell you are, and like hell I am. Too cold for that. I thought I told you you'd have to try harder than that? Put some effort into it will ya? Geez. And another thing, I didn't know you knew French." "When you got Jacques babbling away in French half the time, hard not to pick some up. I could speak more," he said, sounding just a little bit haughty. "Prove it," Crowe challenged. "Merde," he wracked his brain, trying to think of something. "Umm….voilez vo chou chez avec moi, mi amore?" he tried, and grinned sheepishly. "Did Jacques teach you that or did you hear it from the song?" Crowe asked, arms folded across her chest. "Little of both Babes. Chicks dig the bilingual thing, and French is the language of love. Might as well be to the point right?"

Crowe smacked herself in the forehead. He was so impossible some times. "What about that first word you said?" "Merde? It means shit. I was hoping you wouldn't ask me to speak more, since I sorta forget some of it. But you just had to ask, didn't ya?" "Maybe you shouldn't make claims you can't back up." "I could back it up, it just took me a second." "Right. Well, can I borrow a shirt or not?" "What if I say no?" "I borrow one anyway. I'm just trying to be nice," Crowe tossed the hat in the corner atop a pile of what looked like dirty socks, chicken bones, and bug carcasses. "All right Babes, here's one that's pretty clean," he chucked a green t-shirt at her. "I don't suppose I could convince you to cover your eyes could I?" "Nope." "But, I don't wanna go down to the bathroom, and, well…" Crowe twisted the shirt in her hands. "Babes, for god's sake, just change. I promise not to ravage ya all right? I can't promise I won't mentally undress you, but I won't touch you ok?" "Ok, ok, sorry. Give me a break, I only just had my first kiss today," Crowe pulled the shirt over her head, revealing her wine colored silky looking push up bra. She felt his eyes on her, and did her best to ignore it. Seconds later she felt moderately better with the green shirt settled about her, hanging barely to her thighs. Her matching panties showed when she shimmied out of the skirt that went with the elf outfit, only serving to up the intensity of BJ's gaze.

"Y'know, if I didn't know better, I'd swear you picked this shirt for nefarious reasons." "I swear I didn't. How the hell am I supposed to know what size shirt to give you? I didn't know it would be like that." "Yeah? Well my legs are freezing, and I don't like it. So either prepare to surrender all your blankets to me, or find me some pants." "Don't have any pants to give you Babes. And I don't have a lot of blankets, but any I do have are yours. But we'll have to get real close to keep you warm." "How does that work, seeing as you're dead, and cold?" Beetlejuice began to answer, and trailed off incoherently, giving no direct response. Sighing, Crowe clambered into the bed, pulling the blankets around her and looking for BJ. He seemed to have disappeared when she wasn't looking.

"Banzai!" he cannon balled through the ceiling to land next to her, nearly toppling her from the bed. "I hardly think that was necessary," Crowe snapped. "But I thought it was. My room Babes. I decide what is and isn't necessary," he tugged some of the blankets over himself, and lay down. "Of course. What was I thinking?" she answered sarcastically. He scowled at her, and she stuck her tongue out. He returned in kind, only he wiggled his striped tongue obscenely, reminding her of the mistletoe again, knowing it would make her squirm. He was mostly right, she glared and turned her back to him, curling up and not speaking again.

"Good night to you too Babes." Obviously fake snoring answered him. In retaliation, Beetlejuice wormed his way up 'til he was right behind her, and wrapped an arm around her until they were spooning. Truthfully, it wasn't the most comfortable, since she wouldn't relax, revealing that she was in fact awake. "C'mon Babes, loosen up. I won't bite…much, or too hard, unless you want," he whispered in her ear, and she shivered despite herself. She couldn't help it; the way his voice slithered out of the pitch darkness into her ear, made her think naughty things. Things she'd never, ever admit to aloud, that gained inspiration from the romance novels she read. Without her thinking about it, she relaxed into his grip, and let him hold her close. It wasn't so terrible really. What could possibly happen?

That question was answered in the morning, when Crowe woke to something poking her in the back. Her eyes widened to the size of saucers, and she stared unseeingly out the window. Oh god no. Behind her, Beej tightened his grip around her waist, and nuzzled against the back of her neck, pressing himself even closer. She bit her lip, and tried not to alert him to the fact that she was awake. Though judging from the happy little mumbles he was making in his sleep, and the way he snuggled against her, she needn't have worried. He wasn't going to wake up, not for a while at least. She was well and truly trapped between a rock and a hard place. She groaned internally at how bad that sounded in her head. Unfortunately it was the truth.

_Ok, think girl. How are you going to get out of this? 'Cause if he woke up now, it would be majorly embarrassing. Not that it's not now, but, it would get worse. And he wouldn't let you forget it. He would rub it in your face, that you made it happen…wait, when did I decide it was me? How do I know it's not just a reflex kind of thing? Or maybe he's dreaming about someone else…_for reasons she was in no mood to explore, that thought left a tight feeling in her chest, like an ache. Crowe shut her eyes tight and counted to ten, trying to think of some way to get him to loosen his grip. Naturally, this wasn't a wise decision, because the minute she relaxed to try to think, he started moving once more, giving more evidence into what kind of dream he was having. Beej's hand started to creep up while the other pulled her tighter against his chest.

Crowe couldn't help it. She leapt up and squeaked in surprise. Beetlejuice woke instantly, looking around to figure out what the matter was. Crowe wouldn't meet his eyes. "Babes? What's up? Nightmare?" "Oh no, I'm not the one with interesting dreams this morning Beej," she answered, her voice higher pitched than normal. Oh. Oh! A slow predatory grin spread across his face. "Can't blame me for this one Babes. It was your fault." "Please BJ, just this once, leave me alone about it, and just…fix it," she looked at him now, meeting and holding his gaze. He began to understand now what her lack of companions had meant. She had absolutely no experience in anything romantic or sexual in nature. Oh sure, she had her frivolous romantic ideals, and she could flirt like a champ, but the blush on her cheeks told the real story. And because he found the whole thing so funny, he obliged, and went along to his bathroom. Crowe sat on the bed, trying to ignore what she knew to be happening. A few minutes later BJ was back, still grinning at her. She looked 'cute' to say the least, trying to both not look at him, and look at him, and blushing, and her hair messed up, and the shirt ridden up. Mercilessly, he left her alone about it, and simply tossed her a pair of black slacks to wear along with the shirt.

"I thought you didn't have any pants I could borrow?" "None that you want to wear to bed Babes. These are day time pants. I mean, I doubt you wanna wear the ones from yesterday without them being washed, and you probably don't wanna wear the elf outfit. So you can wear my clothes." She nodded in agreement, seeing the logic in that. She wasn't sure if it was a good thing to be agreeing with him like that, but she let it slide this once, considering he was being nice and not bothering her about her awakening. "So, want to go see if those people I have to claim kinship with are still here?" "Yeah, might as well. But don't forget, I have to help my dad decorate the Christmas tree today. And go shopping for you and him." "You don't know what to get me." "No thanks to you. I'll just wing it. And if you don't like it, well, you should have told me something earlier." "You can't just get me a bag of beetles can you?" "No, it's Christmas. It has to be a good present. And I have to give everyone here the gifts I got them too," she finger combed her hair, and pulled on her shoes, and gathered up the presents.

Thankfully, his family had left, returning his house back to his version of normal. There was a note for him pinned to the door from his parents. They had to leave early, something about Donny treating everyone to a skiing trip. There was no mention of inviting BJ along. He suspected that Donny had wanted to, but had been talked out of it. Oh well, no skin off his nose. He tossed himself among the piles of dirty laundry and detritus on the floor, reveling in the fact that it was all his, and he no longer had to listen to other people complain about it. Beetlejuice glanced once more at the note, seeing his family expected an invite to the wedding. Ha! Like that would happen. Not a chance. After a while, Crowe returned from dropping off presents, and sat down by his head.

"You look really happy right now," she observed. "I am really happy right now. They're gone, it's just you and me, and we don't have to see them again. It's all good, plus I'm with my garbage," he rolled in the trash like a little kid rolls in snow. Crowe wrinkled her nose at the smell. So that was why he smelled odd all the time. Without the garbage, he didn't smell that bad really. Rather like a basement. But this, this was too much. Maybe if she hung some of those little scented pine trees for cars around, it would be more bearable. "All right Beej, well, I got to get to the mall, so, do you want to maybe stay here, or tag along home with me? I don't know for sure when I'll be back." "I'll tag along Babes. I can hang out in your room." "Can you? Are you sure you can without snooping through my things?" "No promises, but if I do, I'll put things back the way they were so you'll never know." "That's freakishly methodical for you BJ. But, ok, I'll take that chance. Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!"

"Crowe, that you?" "Yeah, we're home Daddy. What's for breakfast?" "Cereal, come on downstairs," Ollie called. Crowe traipsed downstairs with BJ floating beside her. "What are you wearing Crowe?" "Oh, well, my clothes got soaked in a storm and a forced bath from his mom, and I was also dressed in an elf outfit, and I was _not_ sleeping in that, so Beej let me borrow a shirt and some pants." Ollie nodded in agreement to that, but gave narrowed eyes to BJ, who didn't notice really. The girl's father noticed everything though. How his daughter's eyes seemed to stray toward the ghost more than they had the day before, and the pink that tinged her face when she did. The way the ghost gave her a smirk whether she was looking or not. Something had happened, something Ollie wasn't sure he liked.

He confronted Beetlejuice about it while Crowe was showering and changing. "What happened?" "What d'you mean what happened Pops? I don't know what you're talking about," Beej gave an innocent face that neither of them believed. "I mean something happened, and I want to know what. Crowe's been staring at you since you two got home." "Has she? _Interesting." _"Don't pretend you didn't notice. I told you to-'' "Yeah, yeah, I got the picture. Y'know Ol-i-_ver_, for someone so eager to set her up for marriage as payment to me eight years ago, you don't seem so keen on whether or not she's happy. What would Lyds think?" Ollie glared at the ghost, who was wearing an annoyingly snarky smile. He wanted to wipe that grin from his face. "What you seem to be forgetting, Beetlejuice, is that Lydia broke off contact with you." "Yeah, after she'd married you." "After she chose me you mean, and you lost." "Wasn't aware we were in a contest Ollie," BJ answered, sounding almost bored.

Ollie sucked in a deep breath. This was getting way out of hand. He had never let things get to him like this. But, this was his baby girl. Well, she would protest that she wasn't a baby any more, but she was to him. However, she was old enough to make her own decision he admitted reluctantly. "You're right; I'm letting my annoyance with you get the better of me. All I should care about is Crowe's happiness," he hung his head. "But, I guess I don't want her to grow up, and leave me alone. I couldn't bear that. I don't want to lose her." "Hey, hey Pops, who said anything about leaving? She's still here, we ain't going anywhere. As Crowe says to me on a regular basis, don't count your chickens before they hatch. Ok?" Beetlejuice tried to calm down his father in law. He wasn't so comfortable with the turn this conversation had taken. He was fine with pissing of Ollie deliberately, but this put him way out of depth. To his relief, Crowe bounded down the stairs to ask for a ride to the mall.

Crowe noted the tenseness in her dad on the drive to the mall, but he didn't mention it, so neither did she. "I'll give you a call when I'm ready to come home. Don't start decorating the tree without me," she grinned at Ollie and sauntered into the mall. Sadly, she gained no sudden burst of inspiration from the stores as to what to buy for her dad and her fiancé. Not for a while anyway. She passed by one store, paused, and backtracked. "Now that's something BJ would definitely like." Crowe stepped into the store, and spotted something her dad would like as well. And they were both on sale. Bonus!

"Crowe!" the minute she stepped from the store, Crowe found herself in someone's tight embrace. Someone very familiar. "BJ?" "That's Betty," Beej stepped back, and stood with hands on…her hips. Crowe looked her up and down. "I would like to point out how incredibly disturbing this is. I mean, you have no idea. What are you doing here anyway?" "I got bored. So thought I'd drop by and see what you got me," (s)he tried to peer into the large white plastic bag Crowe held. "No way Betty. It's a surprise. You'll have to wait 'til Christmas," Crowe pulled the bag away. Betty scowled. "Why did you disguise yourself as a girl?" Crowe asked as they started to walk the mall once more. "It's the easiest thing, since I remember it most. I barely have to think about it," Betty responded. Crowe nodded in understanding. As they headed toward the escalator, Betty stopped, glaring. "Don't look now Babes, but we got bad company coming." "What do you…oh. Naturally," Crowe glared as well, spying Clarissa, Denise, and Rachel, who saw Crowe and Beej. Crowe froze, trying to think of some response, and praying BJ would behave. Though it was very unlikely.

"Oh my gawd, someone actually lowered themselves to hang out with you Hawkins?" Clarissa asked disbelievingly. "Well, duh Clarissa, look at her, no wonder Hawkins is hanging out with her. Probably makes Hawkins feel like a model," Denise snickered. Crowe could hear BJ's knuckles cracking as he fought the urge to lunge and attack the three blondes. She shot him/her a look, urging him to stay quiet. She continued on her way, head held high, ignoring them. "Hey, we're talking to you," Rachel snapped, and the three stepped in front of Crowe. "I don't have anything to say to you though. Why would I waste my time simplifying my sentences so you three can understand them? It's just not worth my time. So my friend and I will be on our way, if you don't mind," Crowe answered calmly, and left down the escalator with Betty behind her sniggering. "Good one Babes. Though I woulda liked something more like a fight." "Yeah, well, by the time they realize they were insulted and make a move to retaliate, we'll be gone. It's more amusing to me." "You're a like a ninja of the mind Babes. Seriously." "I try. Want to get some eats and go home?" "I like the sound of that."

_The end…not of the whole thing, obviously, but of chapter ten at least. On to chapter eleven. Reviews and construction criticism are always appreciated. Always. _


	11. Chapter 11

_Again, it was getting rather late when I started typing this chapter. I should probably stop staying up so late when I type, but I'm just so busy during the day. Curse me for having a social life. Ah well. Here's chapter eleven coming at ya at almost warp speed. _

Crowe sat knee deep among boxes wrapped in Christmas themed wrapping paper in her black flannel pajama pants and Guns'n'Roses oversize shirt, gazing happily at all her Christmas presents. BJ sulked against the couch, a green sparkly bow stuck to his head and tinsel wrapped around his neck. Crowe had decorated him to get him into the holiday spirit. Needless to say, he wasn't amused. Ollie on the other hand, found it hilarious, and snapped quite a few pics of the ghost decked out in 'his holiday finest'.

The wrapping paper didn't last long once Ollie gave the go to open presents. Ollie loved the faux sheep wool lined faux leather vest and new vest Crowe bought him. She in turn was ecstatic over the new iPod dock, sketch book, and digital camera he gave her. BJ even cheered up when he opened the new faux leather trench coat Crowe handed to him. "Look at the buttons," she said, blushing slightly despite her grin. He did so, and saw they were little black beetles. "I sewed them on myself. When I saw them, I just had to get them. I mean, they're adorable." "Thanks Babes, I mean it. It's a nice coat," BJ stood and shrugged into, noticing it fit like a glove. "Now, open my present," he produced a small black velvet box out of thin air, and presented it to her with all the flair of a magician pulling a rabbit from his hat.

A small gasp slipped past Crowe's lips as she took in the bat earrings that matched her engagement bracelet. She didn't even question that he probably stole them, or conned them out of the same jeweler who sold her bracelet to her. She simply accepted them as the gift they were meant to be. Along with them was a pair of fuchsia knee high socks embroidered with dark purple beetles and lime green spiders. "They're eye catching, to say the least. I love them. Thanks," Crowe immediately pulled the socks on, knocking her feet together and showing them off.

Beetlejuice enjoyed watching Crowe reveling in the child like cheer of Christmas. It reminded him of the Christmases spent with Lyds, where she would talk him into spending it with Jacques and Ginger, and maybe seeing his parents, and sledding, snowball fights in the Neitherwoods. Maybe he could get Crowe to spend her Christmas there. It wouldn't quite be like old times, but, then again, no one could be Lyds, not even her daughter. He found himself drawn from his thoughts and temporarily blinded as the girl in question took his picture, testing out her new camera. She did like her gifts, especially the ones from him, he noted, seeing the bats swinging from her ears. Truth be told, he had considered for quite a while getting her some sexy 'Santa's little helper' outfit. Yeah it would be more a gift for him, but so what? Unfortunately, he didn't think Daddy would like that very much, and wasn't too sure if Crowe would see it as funny and take the hint, or be insulted and banish him. So to save himself, he'd gotten her the other presents, conning them away just as Crowe suspected. BJ sighed. It was a shame, 'cause he'd seen a _really_ nice little red silk thing that would've looked _fantastic_ on her.

"Beeje? Are you paying any attention to me at all?" Crowe sighed exasperatedly. "Sort of," he answered lazily, pulling the tinsel from around his neck. "That's a no. What were you thinking about?" "Nothing too important Crowe. Don't worry about it. It's Christmas after all." She frowned at him, sure he was hiding something (when wasn't he keeping something hidden up his frayed and dirty sleeve?), but let it go. She had noticed that he only called her 'Crowe' when her dad wad around, or he when he wasn't kidding and really wanted her to drop it. She sensed this was a case of both, which was totally unfair in her book. Instead of prodding, like she normally would have, she got to her feet and ran into the kitchen, sliding across the linoleum floor in her socks to come to a hard landing against the opposite wall next to the fridge. "I'm making breakfast!" she called. "Who wants crepes?"

Over breakfast, BJ popped the question. No, not _the_ question, the question of whether Crowe could spend at least some of her Christmas in the Neitherworld. "It's a sort of…tradition…me and Lyds had. Just for a few hours Pops," he said. Ollie checked the clock on the kitchen wall. "It's eleven now. I want you home by five for dinner. All right!" Beetlejuice saluted, and Crowe promised to have her cell phone on at all times, and bundle up, not go on any thin ice, etc. etc. However, before she could even think about going anywhere, she had dishes to do, by hand. Ollie wasn't too keen on the idea of Beetlejuice juicing the dishes. Seemed to think he'd be more inclined to break them against the walls than actually clean them. As if he'd _ever_ do that.

Once the dishes were stacked neatly, Crowe found herself being bundled in layers upon layers of shirts, sweaters and jackets, with gloves and a furry hat with ear flaps and a scarf. "Dad…I can't breathe…I think I'll be fine. I'm so bundled I can barely move," she gasped. "I don't want a repeat of you getting sick," Ollie stood up from tying the laces of her boots. "But dad, seriously, I can take care of myself, and Beej will look out for me. The Neitherworld is perfectly safe almost all the time," Crowe said easily. "Almost all of the time?" Ollie fixed her with a stern look. "Well it _is_ inhabited by dead people and monsters and such. Obviously there's some who might not be the safest. But I don't hang out with them, so I don't have to worry about them. It's fine, no worries. I'll be safe, I promise." Ollie wanted to believe her, but nothing could make him believe she was safe in the Neitherworld. He simply couldn't trust it, and it was unlikely that that would change.

"Lay those B words on me Babes," Beetlejuice urged, hovering over Crowe up in her bedroom. She'd taken off most of the layers of clothes so she could move and breathe. He on the other hand, was wearing the jacket she'd gotten him. She pulled up her hood and chanted the words. In the next breath, they were in the Neitherworld, a few yards from the Roadhouse, almost knee deep in snow. "It's so…pretty," Crowe murmured, spinning around slowly to take it all in. Everything; every tree, every road, every house, was blanketed in snow. It looked like a Christmas card, albeit a bizarre, off kilter Christmas card that Hallmark would never allow to darken their racks of cards. Which was how she liked her Christmas cards incidentally.

Crowe was knocked to her knees by a sudden hit right between her shoulder blades. A second hit sent her face down in the snow. Carefully, she picked herself up, snow sticking to her eyelashes and her hair, BJ's raucous laughter grating her eardrums. Snarling, she heaped together the biggest snowball she could, and heaved it at him, hitting him square between the eyes and cutting out his laughter. "Take that!" Crowe stood up, tossing him a smug smile. "I was just warming up Babes. Try this on for size," Beetlejuice scooped up snow, and in an instant, his hand was a snow ball shooting gun, positively wicked looking. Crowe gulped, and dove for cover as the balls of snow pelted at her at high speed. The ones that hit her hit hard and she knew there'd be bruises. "That's not fair!" she yelled from the pathetic cover of a dead looking tree. "All's fair in love and war Babes," he called back over the noise.

The silence of the cease fire was deafening. And it was Crowe's only chance. If she was going to get him to stop firing, she had to take him out. Firing back snowballs wasn't going to have any effect. But she needed more height if it was going to work.

Without thinking, assuming that Crowe was still there, Beetlejuice started to fire snowballs at the tree where Crowe was hiding. Only when he didn't hear any yelps or curses did he stop. "Babes? You there?" He waved his hand back to normal, and floated closer to the tree. A wild battle cry tore through the silence, and he was hit hard by Crowe lunging at him from as high in the tree as she could climb. They tumbled into the snow and down a small hill to land in a tangled heap half in a wall of dead thorny bushes. "Ok, that was not my intention at all," Crowe groaned, crawling out into the snow. "What the hell was that for anyway?" BJ followed her, thorns catching in his hair and tangling it even more. "To make you stop firing snowballs at me of course," Crowe answered. "Bit over the top wasn't it?" "You were asking for it. And it seemed like a good idea at the time." "Well it wasn't." "You're just upset 'cause I knocked you on your ass and got the better of you," she smirked. "The sun was in my eyes," he protested indignantly. "What sun?!" Crowe gestured to the overcast sky. "It was there a minute ago." "Sure it was."

The sun actually had been there a moment before, but now thick black clouds were rolling in. Not surprising normally in the Neitherworld. No, what made this so noticeable was that the clouds were going _against_ the wind. Crowe tugged on Beetlejuice's sleeve, pointing up to the clouds. "Beeje, do the clouds normally go against the wind here?" "Not typically Babes, but what do I know? They might," he shrugged, looking at the sky as well. Something about the clouds didn't sit right with him, and made him uneasy. They almost seemed to be moving with a purpose, coming towards them. It reminded him of a movie he'd seen once with Lyds, what was it_, James and the Giant Peach_, where the kid was chased by an evil rhino in the clouds. It wouldn't have surprised him at all to see a rhino in those clouds, and he unconsciously started to move Crowe behind him to protect her. She willingly stayed behind BJ, peering worriedly over her shoulder to watch the clouds move ever closer. In just a few minutes they would be upon them. BJ felt Crowe's grip on the back of his shirt tighten, and she pressed close against him. He didn't even have time to bask in that fact before whatever it was arrived in front of them.

An all too familiar snail drawn black coach pulled to a stop. "Isn't that Prince Vince's coach?" Crowe whispered in BJ's ear. "Yeah. That explains the clouds going against the wind. Wonder what he wants?" "Probably to hit on me some more. I don't think he realizes that I'm just not interested." "Oh no? And why's that anyway? He's a prince," BJ glanced out of the corner of his eye at her. "I've already got a fiancé, and he's almost too much for me to handle. I don't need a moody prince who seems to think I'm going to fall for him just because my mom did," Crowe rested her chin on Beetlejuice's shoulder. He beamed, showing all his crooked teeth. To him, that meant she'd totally picked him over Vince. So why shouldn't he gloat a little, and rub it in the Prince's face?

Crowe squeaked as Beetlejuice pulled her around to his side, leaning her against his side. "What're you doing Beej?" she hissed. "Just go with it Babes. Don't you wanna prove to him you're not interested?" "Well yeah, I guess. But mind the hands. Try and keep it at least to a PG-13 instead of a XXX ok?" "I'll do my best," he promised. Satisfied, she molded herself against him, letting her arms wrap loosely around him while his hand slid along her back and rested on her hip. Prince Vince's eyes widened then narrowed at the sight as he stepped from the coach, and thunder clapped around them, giving away his displeasure. "Merry Christmas Crowe," he said, deliberately ignoring Beetlejuice. "Merry Christmas Vince. Are you having a good holiday?" Crowe asked, purposely hugging Beetlejuice tighter, to remind the prince that he was there. "Gloomy as usual," Prince Vince sighed dismally. "I spent it alone as I always have. Yours?" "Oh my Christmas was wonderful. Look at what Beej got me," Crowe showed off her bracelet and earrings. "They're an engagement present. Cost a fortune, but, he tells me I deserve the best and he'll get it for me," she slapped a soppy look on her face, gazing up at Beetlejuice adoringly. He grimaced internally. _Laying it on a little thick there Babes,_ he thought. Luckily, Prince Vince bought it. Beej snorted, he'd always thought him a thick in the head.

Prince Vince inspected the bracelet, taking care not to handle Crowe too intimately with Beetlejuice plastered to her side. "It's…lovely. Congratulations to you both," he said finally, looking as though he'd just gulped down a bag of atomic war head candies. "Thanks. It is lovely isn't it? And to get the earrings to match," Crowe heaved a delicate sigh, trailing off eloquently. "You know, they look an awful lot like a set I saw at the mall recently," Vince noted. "However did you afford them Beetlejuice?" He inquired, a glint in his typically clouded eyes. Beetlejuice didn't let his insinuations faze him, "I'm an expert at haggling." "More like thievery and conning I'm sure," Vince muttered. "He's telling the truth Vince, I was with him," Crowe interjected, tightening her grip on BJ. "Of course you were. Well, a merry Christmas to you both. I have important business elsewhere," Prince Vince turned without another word and climbed into his coach, urging the driver to lead them away quickly.

The minute the coach was gone, Crowe and BJ burst into laughter, each using the other for support. "God, I give myself an award for that," Crowe wheezed, wiping a tear from her eye. "Really Babes? I thought you over did it myself," BJ told her. "I did not! I was amazing!" "Not unless the definition of 'amazing' has changed in the past 600 years. You were so over done there." "Well he bought it didn't he?" Crowe snapped. "Aww, don't get mad Babes," Beetlejuice floated above the snow, and pulled her up. "I'm not mad," she grumbled, taking his hand anyway. "Sound mad to me." "Well I'm not. Merely frustrated," Crowe insisted. "With what?" "With you! You give me gorgeous earrings and awesome socks, and then shoot down my attempts at making the Prince back off. Can't you be nice to me for a whole day? Especially since it's Christmas?" "But Ba-aabes," he whined, "I don't do nice. I'm mean, it's what I do. I can't be nice, even on holidays, for too long." "Oh come on," Crowe pouted, "Please? I mean, you could at least take me to the movies, like you promised me you would a few months ago."

Beetlejuice tried not to look down at Crowe. He knew she was pulling the same thing her mom had that was always effective against him. But he couldn't help it. Maybe he was a glutton for punishment. He looked at her. Her eyes were wide, and shiny with tears, and her lower lip was trembling. He would've sworn she was whimpering. "Fine. I'll take you to the damned movies," he growled. "Yay!" Instantly her tears were gone, and he knew they'd been faked. "Now that was an academy award winning performance Babes." "Thank you, thank you, I do what I can. I'd like to thank the little people," Crowe bowed low. And while she was bowed, he shoved a handful of snow down the back of her jacket. She squealed, and jumped around, trying to get the snow out. "You…bastard! That was so goddamn mean!" "Sorry Babes. Couldn't resist," BJ cackled. "I'm not turning my back on you again," Crowe grumbled. "I can live with that," BJ answered, eyeing her with one brow raised. "The fact that you can still find me hot even bundled up like this worries me a little bit. But, y'know, I'm flattered…I think." "Why worries," Beej asked, clasping her hand and leading her along. "You're dead, but your sex drive is still alive and kicking, more alive that most people's entire bodies. It's a bit perplexing," she answered. "Babes, you try going from being a damn near libertine to 600 plus years of celibacy and being calm, cool, and collected all the time." "Well, Beej, see, can't miss what you've never had. I'm finding it more than a little hard to put myself in your shoes. And what do you mean a libertine? You mean like a player? With lots of girlfriends?" "That is exactly what I mean. It was ok back then," Beetlejuice grinned. "And now you're committed to just me? Me. One girl. And I have to somehow manage to satisfy over six hundred years of pent up lust all on my own. Christ."

Beej laughed at her the rest of the trip to the movies. She put it so bluntly, completely taking the hotness out of it. She made it sound so…scientific. It was ridiculous. And very much like Lyds. Crowe didn't appreciate the laughter that was aimed directly towards her. She ignored him, giving him the cold shoulder until he ceased, and started to pester her to pay attention to him once more. "You're such a child," she snapped. "Am not!" "You're a spoiled brat of a ghost," she continued, a smirk spreading over her lips. Now that the shoe was on the other foot, she was enjoying herself. "Well so are you," he answered, only starting to realize she was teasing him. "Not a ghost hun," she retorted. "Doesn't mean you're not spoiled. You're such a daddy's girl it's not even funny." She glowered at him. "And guess what Babes. You're the one that started this cycle of meanness this time," BJ grinned triumphantly. Crowe growled under her breath, hating to admit that he was right. "Can we just get to the movies please?"

A sharp whistle sounded, and Crowe looked beneath them. Doomie was following them, easily keeping pace. She looked questioningly at Beej. "We're going to the drive-in Babes. Kinda hard to sit and watch the movie without a car." "Oh, right," Crowe answered slowly, still leery of the car. Beetlejuice lowered them slowly until with a sudden drop they were sitting in Doomie and pulling into a spot at the drive-in right before the screen. "What are we seeing anyway?" Crowe asked. BJ looked at her from the corner of his eye. "You're not going to tell me, are you?" she sighed heavily. He shook his head. She rolled her eyes upward, simply accepting it for what it was. He made it his mission in afterlife to be the most annoying ghost ever. No sense fighting with him about it all the time. It would grow tedious real fast. Besides, the movie was starting.

Roughly two hours later, Beetlejuice was immensely proud of himself for agreeing to take her to the movies. He never would've thought she'd get scared so easily, but then again, the Neitherworld did make their movies better and scarier than anything the real world could ever hope to achieve. Crowe peered around his arm, which she'd held onto shortly after hiding her face in his chest. She was nearly as pale as him, and her eyes were like saucers. "Is it over?" she whispered. "Yeah. You can come out now Babes," he sniggered. She shakily sat up, and gave a nervous giggle. "I've never, ever been scared of a movie before. But that was insane. Seriously, what was that?" "A Neitherworld horror flick. We make the best here," Beej preened. "Amazing job. I don't even know what happened; I covered my eyes most of the time. But I got enough, trust me," Crowe grinned. "Yeah, I figured from the way you hid against me and how your voice is right now," BJ teased her. "Shut up. Is not," Crowe said indignantly. Beej clapped his hands over his ears, "Careful Babes, you're reaching levels only dogs can here." He was rewarded for his snark by a swift smack in the back of the head. "Not cool Babes. Really not cool."

The day Crowe was to return to school dawned chilly and grey, suiting of the events to follow. Beetlejuice was curled up at her feet as the striped dog, keeping her feet almost warm and enjoying being allowed on the bed. He, with his keen sense of smell, was the first to notice something was wrong. He lifted his nose to the air, scenting. He smelled death, fresh, not like him. No, this was recent, with the pungent smell of putrefaction as a chaser. His nose crinkled in distaste at the sharp smell. That was something even _he_ wouldn't want to roll in.

"Babes, wake up. Something doesn't smell right," BJ snuffled her hand, urging her to wake. Crowe's hand flopped boneless, to her mattress, and she turned over. "Crowe, wake up. Now!" in a last ditch effort, BJ nipped her hand, not enough to break the skin, but enough to get her attention. "Ow! Beetlejuice! What the hell?" "Babes, something died in here," he answered, tail hitting the bed in an anxious rhythm. "What?" Crowe's mind was still fuzzy with the remnants of sleep. She rubbed at her eyes and tried to focus. "Something died?" "Yeah!" "Well lead me to it!"

Beetlejuice leapt of the bed, but didn't have to follow his nose far. He hung his head regretfully. Oh she was going to be so upset. "Babes, it's here," he tossed his head towards her two tanks. The ones Frankie and Axl had inhabited. Axl was twisted up in his running wheel, his peppercorn eyes bulging from his little furry face. The worst of the smell though was from Frankie's tank. For reasons unknown, he had, for all intents and purposes liquefied. And being an undead frog didn't help matters. Beej watched as Crowe became as green as the mess in the tank, before running into the bathroom and heaving the contents of her stomach into the toilet. He changed into his usual self, and crept in, laying a hand on her back. She turned a tearstained face up at him. Oh no, not tears. He couldn't stand tears.

"Why? That's what I want to know? Why both of them, and in just like that?" "I don't know Babes. I know that Frankie at least shouldn't have happened. I brought him back myself, he should have lasted until I said so. And you loved him, so I wouldn't have just done that. As for the rat, Axl, he seemed smart enough to not get tangled in the wheel. I wanna say it's a freak accident. But it feel's different from that. I could find out for you," BJ offered. She shook her head, "Not now. I just want to give them a proper burial." He nodded, understanding. Crowe stood and poked her head out of the door, calling for Ollie. She brought him in to show him what had happened. "I'm not feeling much like school today. If it's all the same to you, I'd like to stay home, and give them a good funeral. Can I…can I have a plastic container f-for Frankie?" Ollie frowned, hearing the catch in her voice. He simply had to open his arms, and she collapsed, crying once more, her shoulders shaking. He spared a glance at Beetlejuice, who shrugged as if to say, "I don't know how to help."

Shortly thereafter, Crowe recovered enough to let go of her dad and sit inelegantly on her bed. "I'll get you a container, and a shovel. I'll help you give them a proper burial, and of course you can stay home today. I'll be right back," Ollie pat her on the head, and left to the kitchen. Crowe sniffled, rubbing her nose, which was bright red, as were her eyes. She looked like a right mess, with the tearful face and hair in tangled loops and knots, and her pajamas disheveled. BJ became the dog once more, and rested his head on her knee, giving her mournful eyes. Crowe let out a hiccupping sob, and rubbed his head, scratching his ears. His tail thumped against her leg, and he whined. "What?" she asked. "What do you mean what? Aren't I allowed to play the mournful, loyal dog to make you feel better?" "Is that what you're doing?" "Trying to anyway." Crowe laughed softly, and kissed her finger tips, then pressed them to the top of his head.

Ollie came back with a plastic container to put Frankie's remains in, as well as another for Axl, and a shovel. Crowe stepped into her boots and pulled her jacket on. She dug the graves herself, not caring when her hands blistered and cracked from the strain of breaking through the frozen ground. With a final, soft good bye she laid the two little coffins in the ground, covering them and setting a large flat rock as a marker. "It ok if I say something?" BJ asked. "Go ahead," Crowe answered in a thick voice. "Well, I didn't really know Axl, but he was good, for a rat. He was your friend. And Frankie was probably the best undead frog, and showed how much Babes there cares about animals, whether they're alive or dead. Which I like. So, I'm sorry you had to die like this." "Thanks Beej," Crowe said gratefully. "Yeah, thank you," Ollie added. "Crowe, sweetie, I've got to go to work at the mall today. Will you two be ok?" "Fine, we'll be fine daddy. Promise," Crowe assured him. She looked far from fine, but he let it go. He didn't even order BJ to behave himself. Which didn't go unnoticed by the ghost, but one look at Crowe told him it wasn't a good time. Hell, he was actually a bit upset about it himself.

"Babes?" he was ignored.

"Babes, you'll freeze if you stay out there all day."

"Don't care."

"C'mon Babes. Come inside."

"Don't want to. Leave me _alone_ Beetlejuice."

Beetlejuice would not be ignored like that. He looked one more time at Crowe sitting on her balcony, wrapped up in a blanket, staring out across the yard. Tears balanced precariously on her lashes, threatening to spill over or freeze there. BJ flew inside, and tried to think of the one thing that would get her inside in the warmth. Hot chocolate? No, that would take too long. Same with soup or anything hot to eat. A book? TV? A movie? No, no, and no. But…there was one thing she couldn't resist.

Crowe cringed and nearly leapt from her chair at the screeching guitar, followed by insane caterwauling. If the windows didn't break it would be a miracle. It sounded like it was supposed to be music, but it was like nothing Crowe had ever heard before. Which lead her to believe Beej had something to do with it. "Beetlejuice! What the bloody hell are you doing?!" she yelled, flinging the blanket off her shoulders and stomping inside. Why wouldn't he just let her mourn in peace? What if she wanted to freeze out there? He should be pleased actually. If she died, she could be with him forever. But no, he had to force her inside, into the warmth and the light. Damn him.

Any angry words Crowe would have laid on BJ fled from her mind at the sight that greeted her in the living room. If this was supposed to cheer her up…well, it at least got her mind off the funeral she'd attended not an hour and a half ago. He had crammed himself into black leather pants, a distinct muffin top drooping over the waist. A torn up leather vest flapped over his bare chest, and a black bandana was tied around his hair. His pants were tucked into mid calf high combat boots. BJ was clutching a microphone and attempting to sing into it. Though what he was doing could not legally be called singing. Nor could the obscene writhing he was doing be called dancing. He looked like a dead, chubby, drunk Axl Rose.

Beej opened his eyes and spotted Crowe gaping at him. "You like?" "B, what the hell…I don't even have the words…" she stammered. "I'm trying to make you feel better," he faltered. She didn't like it? "And how is this supposed to make me feel better? You butchering my favorite song?" "It just is. C'mon," he held out his hand to her. She took it, giving him a skeptical look. He went over to the stereo, turning up the volume. The song went on, mercifully unaccompanied by BJ. Though he didn't change as he pulled Crowe up into the air, spinning around and dancing. As the song changed to "I Like the Way You Move" by the Bodyrockers, then "Poison" by Alice Cooper, Crowe's mood did lighten. She couldn't help laughing at him as he attempted to sing seductively to her. It was cute, in an abnormal way. Though of course she'd never call him that to his face. He wouldn't like it much.

When Ollie returned from work that evening, bearing a bag of dinner from KFC, he found Crowe curled up on the living room floor, her head resting on Beetlejuice's thigh and a small smile on her lips. He was asleep as well, one arm draped over her shoulder in a gallant display of comfort. The ghost drowsily opened one eye and glanced Ollie's way.

"Thanks BJ."

"Don't mention it pops. Ever."

_A/N: well, it has been a while since I last updated. Sorry about that. It happens. I mean, it's finals week at school. Anyways, thanks for the review. Here's hoping for more in the future, eh?_


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: uhh…well, I don't own this 'cept for the obvious OCs and the plot. Beetlejuice belongs to others beside me. _

Crowe knew he was watching. She could feel his eyes on her, and studiously ignored him. She had made ignoring the ghost with the most an art form. He was behaving himself, considering the circumstances, so there wasn't much she could say.

BJ leaned against the sink, getting a little hot under the collar. He couldn't help it, but he would contain himself. She was perching on the edge of the tub, her hair falling in still damp ringlets, in teeny tiny shorts and a spaghetti strap tank top. She was oblivious to his heated gaze as she massaged cherry blossom scented lotion into her legs, arms, _everywhere_. It smelled the same as the shower gel she used and the body spray she had set aside for when she'd dressed. Her hands deftly avoided the fresh band aid on her calf, where she'd nicked herself shaving. He'd nearly swallowed his heart when she'd yelped, and came charging in, prepared for anything but Crowe shrieking at him to leave, it was just a little cut. BJ had left, grumbling about how she didn't appreciate his knight in shining armor act.

Finally, Crowe stood and shook out her mane of hair, combing it into place. "Could you wait outside?" she asked, thumbs hooked into the waistband of her shorts. "I could…" he drawled. "Please? I won't be long." "Oh alright," he passed through the closed door. What he didn't tell her was that he was more than happy to leave, because he wanted to get the present he'd hidden away for her, as it was Valentine's Day. "Thank you," she said softly.

She was well aware of the holiday. She just didn't care. She dressed in black skinny jeans, a cherry red tank top, and a black fishnet shirt. She scrunched her hair and held it back from her face with a head band before lining her eyes with black eyeliner, and added cherry flavored lip gloss and her bat earrings and necklace for a final touch. "God, I'm going to stick out like a sore thumb today, what with all the pink and white," she muttered. Crowe rubbed at her wrist where BJ usually lay. It felt empty without him. She found herself almost looking forward to school, when he would curl up there and either sleep or mess with Clarissa. He was really all she had since Axl and Frankie's tragic deaths.

"I really hate this holiday," Crowe growled, padding out of the bathroom, her socks the only things that didn't match her outfit. They were the ones BJ had given her, and she washed them all the time, so she could wear them as much as possible. "Oh yeah?" Beetlejuice answered, non -committal. "Yes! I never get any valentines. Now, I'm not saying I desperately want a folded up piece paper with 'I luv u' scrawled on it, but back in elementary school, my little construction paper mailbox was always empty. It's disheartening. Besides, while I'm sure at one point Valentine's Day once meant something, in recent times it has become little more than an overly commercialized day promoted by greeting card companies strictly so they can sell more stuff." BJ rolled over so he hovered on his stomach above her. "Is that how you feel?" "Yes," she grumbled. "Well, guess I'll be getting rid of this then," he made a show of preparing to toss out a long box with a red, black, and white bow stuck on it. It was snatched from his grip before he had the chance.

Crowe held up the box, which was in actuality shaped like a casket. She flipped open the lid, and found it filled with Neitherworld chocolates. "Thanks Beej! Oh, but I didn't get you anything," she bit her lip guiltily. "Don't worry about it Babes. Just wanted to get you something, you don't have to…mmph!" Crowe grabbed his tie and jerked him down for a quick kiss, chaste compared to the one they'd shared on Christmas. She let him go, grinning mischievously. He looked dazed, and licked his lips. "…Cherry?" "Yup," Crowe giggled at the look on his face. "Was that a good gift?" "Oh yeah. Just…don't surprise me like that again." "Why?" "I won't survive it." "You're already dead BJ." "So?" "Oh never mind. Just get down here on my wrist so I can get to school," Crowe held up her arm while picking up her backpack. BJ dropped onto her wrist and slithered up to wrap around her neck, nuzzling by her ear. "Ready to face the horde of pink and white?" "I guess so Babes. Are you?" "Nope. I'd rather stay here all day. But I've got no choice. It sucks." "And blows." "At the same time?" "Duh." "That's a pretty nifty trick Beej." "I've seen better." "I'm sure you have." "What's that supposed to mean?" "That's for me to know and you to find out." "Bitch." "You love it." "……Do not."

Beetlejuice had been dozing while Crowe walked to school, lulled by her steps. He woke with a jerk when she stopped short, and opened one eye. "Woah," he hissed softly. It looked like Cupid had gotten drunk and puked all over the school. He slipped down to her wrist and got another look around. Everyone, literally everyone, was dressed in red, white, or pink. There were crepe paper hearts covering every bare spot of wall, pink confetti littered the floors and spilled from lockers, and cardboard cut outs of cherubs smiled sickeningly sweet from around every corner. "It's like they've been mass brainwashed into this," he observed. Crowe nodded minutely, agreeing with him. As she walked the hall ways from class to class, all eyes followed her, and whispers sounded like distant waves rushing against the shore. Crowe ignored it, head held high. So she was dressed differently, shouldn't they expect that by now?

"Babes, not that I don't love your hands on me, but you're wearing a dent in my head."

Crowe nearly yelped and jumped. She'd forgotten about Beetlejuice curled around her wrist, despite the fact she'd been petting his head like a worry stone for the past half hour. She pulled her hand away and gave him an apologetic grin. He gave her a sardonic look and flicked out his tongue. Crowe stared him down until he gave a serpentine shrug and lay back down, not willing to make an issue of it. She went back to paying attention, though this time making sure not to pet him. And he didn't mention that he could smell her insecurity riding the air under her perfume.

The door banged shut behind the duo as they burst into the house. Crowe didn't have homework, as it was the start of February vacation, and intended to use that to her full advantage by playing video games. She kicked off her shoes and sat down on the living room floor. BJ poofed right behind her, leaning against the couch, and scooted her back to lean on his chest while she played. She was playing one of those zombie killing games, and kicking ass at it too. "You want a try?" Crowe offered him the controller. "Nah, out of professional courtesy." She tossed him a puzzled look over her shoulder. "They're zombies, I'm dead too." "No, see they're zombies, you're just undead. There's a difference. They're bad." "I'm bad," BJ answered with a smirk. "But you're bad in a whole different sense of the word. They're just plain evil, and trying to eat me." "I could do that," BJ gently set his teeth into the soft flesh where her neck met her shoulder. Crowe felt heat rising in her cheeks, and cursed how easily she blushed. His chuckle sent a shiver down her back, and she retaliated with an elbow to the gut. Not hard, but enough to get him to stop.

"Perv."

"You're blushing Babes."

"Shut up."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll hog tie you with my game controller cord."

"Don't be such a tease Babes."

"Keep it up and I'll make it a promise."

"I'll bet you say that to all the boys."

Crowe turned around to face him, eyebrows raised. "Yeah, 'cause nothing says romance like video game bondage." "Depends on your definition of romance. That's somewhere on my list." "I'm sure there are a lot of things on your list that aren't physically possible, at least for me." "Oh you'd be surprised Babes what you can do with practice," BJ chuckled. "Shut the fuck up," Crowe sat back down, leaning against him. "Such language from such a pristine girl," he leaned his head atop hers. "Way to quote _The Breakfast Club_, almost. Have you seen it then?" "Once, your mom left it at my place and I was bored. Decent movie." "Yeah. I like it. It's cute," Crowe said. "We could watch some movies, if you want." "Sure Babes, sounds good to me."

Crowe crawled away from him to the movie cabinet, grabbing movies at random. "Aren't you gonna see what you picked?" "Why ruin the surprise?" Once the DVD loaded, 50s type music started to play, and a school scene came into focus. "Ooh! It's _Cry-Baby_! I love this movie," Crowe scrambled back to sit with BJ. "What's it about?" "A pretty popular girl who falls in love with a boy from the wrong side of the tracks, and the trials they go through to be together. It's got Johnny Depp as Wade "Cry-Baby" Walker," she sighed softly. "So it's a chick flick," he sounded disgusted. "Yeah, it is," she tilted her head back to look at him. "You're seriously going to make me sit through this crap?" "Oh pretty please?" Crowe batted her eyes at him, pouting. "Damn it. Fine, I'll stay, but only 'cause I've got nowhere else to go," BJ growled. "Yes! Thanks Beej. It's a good movie, trust me."

"Thank god," he cheered as the credits rolled. "Oh come on, it wasn't that bad," Crowe said. "Was to." "Not." "Was." "Not." "Shut up so I can put the next movie in." Crowe went back to the DVD player, giving BJ a good back view. "I know you're looking," she called without turning around. "And you can't stop me," he taunted. She looked at the movie she had been about to put in, _300_. Nah, he'd enjoy that, all the bloodshed and fighting. She scanned her collection of movies, and spotted the perfect one that would get him back for being his typical lecherous self. Resisting the urge to snicker, she sat back with him, and pressed play.

"Crowe, Babes, what the hell is going on?" "Whatever do you mean Beej?" Crowe asked innocently. "You know just what I mean, those two cowboys-'' "You mean those two hotties?" "Yeah, the 'hotties', are…are…" "Fucking like stoned test bunnies?" "Yes!" "It's _Brokeback Mountain_ BJ. It's a beautiful love story." "Does your dad know you have this?" "He bought it for me. I saw it in theaters. I mean, look at them. Jake Gyllenhaal and Heath Ledger. So cute." "You're drooling Babes." "Can't help it." "And what's up with this music? It's depressing." "Get over it."

The movie went on, and BJ picked up on quiet sniffling. "Babes, are you crying?" "It's not fair. He died, and they didn't get to live happily ever after!" Crowe broke down, leaving Beetlejuice at a complete loss at what to do. He patted her on the shoulder, and she turned around, snuggling close to him. "Do you always cry watching this flick?" "Not always, but it's always sad. He shouldn't have been killed." "He's a fictional character Babes. It's not like he's really dead." "But, Ennis was so sad. It was heart breaking. He kept his shirt." "'Course it was. Terrible," Beej yawned, sliding down on the floor. "I'm gonna put in one more movie, you can sleep if you want," Crowe said softly. He mumbled incoherently in response, rolling over with his back pressed against the couch. He slept through most of the movie, which was _Labyrinth_, and another of her favorites, waking up towards the end when Sarah ate the peach and had the hallucination of the masquerade.

"Babes? What time's it?" BJ sat up stretching, every joint and vertebrae seeming to crack. "Dunno. Quiet. Movie." Crowe waved absently, staring at the screen. He looked to the movie, seeing the dancing and fancy dresses. "Are you serious Babes?" "Yeah. It's so…pretty. I'd give anything to be her. I don't understand why she shot him down," she sighed. "You really want _that_? The whole ballroom and dressed to the nines thing?" "Yup. I love masquerades, all the masks and dresses. I think prom this year might be masquerade themed," Crowe added thoughtfully, more to herself than Beetlejuice. She didn't expect him to want to go, and besides, she had plans for prom. Either he didn't hear, or really didn't care, because he left it alone.

"Hey, weren't we promised bachelor and bachelorette parties?" "Oh yeah! Ginger and Jacques planned that for…next weekend I think it was." "When were you planning on telling me that?" Crowe asked, eyeing him sternly. "Eventually." "You mean an hour before hand, when I have no time to figure out what to wear?" "Probably." "What if I'd had work?" "Blow it off. That kid wouldn't care," BJ said dismissively. "He would to," Crowe mumbled petulantly. She turned away to watch the end of her movie, just in time to hear "Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave." "Now there's something I can agree with," Beetlejuice interrupted, leaning over Crowe's shoulder. "Not gonna happen…well, I suppose you could be my slave," she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "The ghost with the most is nobody's slave!" he said indignantly.

"Beej, go get me a soda."

"No way!"

"Please?"

"…No."

"Pretty please with earthworms and crushed beetles on top?"

"…No?"

Crowe smiled mischievously and turned around to face him. She crawled up so she was straddling his lap, her knees bent on either side of his legs. She tilted her head coyly to the side, and ran her hand through his hair and down his face, her lips hovering over his. "Please Beetlejuice? Just one soda?" she asked, voice soft and husky.

"Diet or regular?"

"Regular. Please and thank you," she giggled, sliding off his lap. As soon as she was off, he shook his head, eyes no longer glazed over. "Cheap shot Babes. Really low blow," he grumbled. "I take it that means no soda?" "No fuckin' way am I getting you soda." "Oh…ok then," she sighed dramatically, purposely making her chest heave. BJ growled, and covered his eyes with one hand. "Fine. Fine, I'll get your god damned soda." "Help yourself to one too," Crowe called after him as he went into the kitchen. "Oh thank you, your highness, for letting me, a humble slave, have one of your sodas," BJ answered scathingly. "You're 't be mad. I mean, c'mon we're getting married soon-'' "Does that mean you're gonna be all nagging and wife like?" "Would I do something like that to you?" "Yeah, you would, especially to me," BJ tossed her a can of soda, "you get a kick out of being a pain in my ass." "Well, you're a bigger pain in the ass," Crowe retorted. "And in so many other places," he smirked salaciously at her. She didn't let it bother her. "You started all this when you first got here. I'm just retaliating." "So you're saying this is all my fault?" "That's exactly what I'm saying." "Damn it. That's not fair." "Life's not fair." "But I'm dead." "So? Apparently the afterlife isn't much better. Build a bridge and get over it."

Crowe did a bit of sweet talking, and managed to get the next weekend off, telling Nate she had plans, her friend BJ had finally shown up. He covered for her, said it was no problem at all.

She followed Beetlejuice to the Roadhouse, where Ginger met her. The bachelorette party was hosted at the house, while Jacques was taking Beetlejuice out along with a few other guys. However, BJ was a bit reluctant to leave. Crowe was already giggling like mad, which did not bode well. "Go on, out. We'll be fine. Have fun, it's your bachelor party," she none too gently shoved him out the door, where Doomie was waiting to drive them all. The door closed with a snap, and Crowe leaned against it, rolling her eyes. Ginger dropped down from the ceiling, grinning at her. "How much longer before the others arrive?" "About a half hour. Why?" "I wanna run over to my mom's boutique, and see if I can find a prom dress," Crowe answered. "Oh! Yeah, sure! We can do that before," Ginger dropped all the way to the floor, and looked up at her. "Let's go!"

"These are so pretty," Crowe let out a soft sigh. "Which one are ya going to pick though?" Ginger scuttled around on the floor, crawling up the dummies and examining the dresses. "I don't know, they all look so nice. So different from what anyone else will have," Crowe moved among them, lifting a sleeve here, spreading out a skirt there. "Hey hun, come see this one!" Ginger called from the back. Crowe hurried back, nearly tripping over herself in her haste. "Ooh! Yes! That's it!" "It's going to look so good on you," Ginger gushed. "You think?" "Sure. Trust me. Now, let's wrap it up and head back to the party. We got drinks," the spider winked. "I'm not old enough to drink," Crowe said hesitantly. "It's the Neitherworld hun, no one will tell. Plus, it's Jell-o shots, some wine coolers, and fruity Neitherworld mixed drinks." "Like the ones that look like Kool-Aid." "Exactly." "Sweet. And I can always sleep here so my dad doesn't have to see me." "Beetlejuice definitely won't mind," Ginger chuckled.

The Monstress arrived shortly thereafter, and the drinks started flowing freely. Crowe found herself getting a wee bit tipsy, giggling like a fool. And the 'guests of honor' hadn't even arrived yet. When the door bell finally did ring, she stumbled to the door. "Sshh," she whispered to the other two, who were snickering at some joke that probably wouldn't have been as funny without the aid of alcohol. The door swung open, creaking as usual, to reveal two of the best looking, well preserved corpses Crowe had ever seen. The tallest of the pair was pale, with shoulder length blonde hair, with wide blue eyes, full pouting lips and when he smiled at her, dimples appeared making him adorable. The shorter one was no less attractive, as tan as a corpse could get with golden brown hair buzzed short on the sides and gelled into spikes on top, with chocolaty brown eyes. "You must be the bride to be," the blonde one greeted her. "Uh-huh," Crowe nodded, forcing herself to stop staring and close her mouth. Ginger laughed behind her on the couch. Crowe shot her a glare, but settled down on the couch as well. "Husband's a lucky guy," the brunette, who introduced himself as Ian, flirted, flashing her a smile that was clearly meant to make all the female dead melt into their socks. The blonde, Ace, agreed as he set up. With a wave of his hand the room became like that of a strip club, and the lights dimmed, but for the brightly colored, fast tempo ones that appeared out of thin air. "This is going to be good," Ginger said conspiratorially, perching on Crowe's shoulder. It was.

BJ was also having himself a pretty good time, and had gotten himself sensationally drunk. Which in turn led to money flying from his pockets into the straps of skimpy tops, or the waistbands of short shorts, or less. His lips were smeared red with lipstick from stolen kisses. Jacques had tried to calm him at the beginning, but eventually, he and the Monster were in the same boat and sinking fast. Though how the skeleton managed to get drunk when he didn't technically have a throat or stomach or anything was beyond Beetlejuice.

"Be-hic-Be-atle-joose…w-won't Crowe be angry with you for coming home drunk?" Jacques asked. "Nah, see, she's probably just as worse as me. She likes to party Crowe does," BJ pushed his hair from his eyes, tripping up to his door. He looked blearily around the room, which still looked like a strip club. Ginger was swinging asleep from a web string above the couch. The Monstress had left only an hour before. Crowe however, was curled on the stage, with one of the strippers on each side. "Hey! Get offa her! Th-that's my girl!" he shouted. Crowe started, sitting up from between Ian and Ace. "Time to go boys. Good show. I'll look you up for my next birthday," she mumbled. "It would be our pleasure to entertain you," Ace lightly held her hand, placing a kiss on the back of it. "We'll definitely come back," Ian added. "The hell you will!" BJ roared. With startled looks, the boys disappeared, taking the lights and stage with them. Crowe moaned at the yelling and the sudden movement. "I'm gonna barf," she scrambled to her feet and to the bathroom.

"Serves you right," BJ shouted after her. The flush sounded and Crowe weaved into the room. "Why's that?" she demanded. "Fallin' asleep in a pile with the entertainment sound familiar?" he replied scathingly. "Oh yeah?" Crowe stomped up to him, rubbing her thumb harshly over his bottom lip, smearing it with red. "This is hardly your shade Beeje," she snapped. "Well, you're drunk!" he retorted, "and under age!" "You're drunk too!" "I've been able to drink for a lot longer than you've been around. I can get drunk and pass out if I want." "Well you can pass out on your own. I'm going home," Crowe flung the door open and left, only pausing to grab the bag with her new prom dress in it. "What's all the yelling?" Ginger groaned. "They're fighting…again," Jacques sighed, heading to his own place. Ginger frowned and scuttled up the thread from which she hung into her home.

Beetlejuice scrubbed the lipstick from his lips on the back of his sleeve until his lips were chapped and his cuff was red. He tossed a glare at the door through which Crowe had left, and stormed to his room. His pillow was punched repeatedly, taking his anger until it was a rumbled mess and feathers landed in his hair. "Damn it!"

Crowe hugged McMuffin to her chest, tears sliding down her cheeks to drip off her nose to land on the stuffed cow's head. BJ was such an asshole sometimes. She hadn't meant to fall asleep next to them, and besides, nothing had happened, they'd been perfect dead gentlemen. No, he was the one who got rowdy and yelled at her. Well fine, he could just keep himself company. No more coming to school, no more watching movies, nothing. "See how he likes that," she murmured, eyes closing slowly.

"Babes…"

Crowe jerked awake, peering into the darkness. Eyes reflected back at her, glowing green. She swallowed a small scream. "Beetlejuice?" "Yeah," he padded up to her bed as a dog, ears low and tail sweeping slowly back and forth. "What do you want?" she said coldly. "My…uh, my bed's cold and lonely," he wriggled closer on his belly, almost whining. "Is that all you want, a bed warmer?" she chucked a pillow at him. He cringed, ducking. "No, that's not all I wanted," he rested his head on her bed, his nose cold on her hand. "Then what?" BJ stayed quiet, looking up at her. "You're not trying to apologize, are you?" "Not exactly, but…" "Sort of?" Crowe finished. "Look, Babes, apologizing ain't really my thing, can't you just accept it without me saying it?" "Nope." "But why?" he howled. "'Cause you're a mean jerk. And a hypocritical corpse. And…and…a tail chasing horn dog!" Crowe rolled onto her side, facing away from him.

Beej scrambled over her and put his nose to hers. "Go away!" Crowe shoved him off her. "But Ba-abes!" "Don't you 'Babes' me Beetlejuice. I'm mad at you, and no amount of puppy dog eyes is going to change that." He sat up, frowning and scratching behind his ear. "C'mon Crowe. What did I do that was wrong?" She stiffened, and slowly sat up to look at him. BJ ducked his head, a bad feeling creeping over him. "Babes?" BJ shrunk himself down to his smallest puppy form, pathetic and just begging for mercy. She grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and he was too startled to do anything. "You mean to tell me, you don't even know what you did wrong?" Crowe asked, voice perfectly level and calm. "I got a bit of an idea," he mumbled. "Bit of an idea? Beetlejuice, you're unbelievable sometimes," she chanted his name three times and chucked him through the open door which appeared on the far side of her room. He tumbled through it, yelping and the door closed and vanished.

"That's it. Wedding's off, I can't stand her," Beetlejuice stormed into his house, startling Ginger and Jacques. "You are cancelling zee wedding?" Jacques gasped. "You bet. I'm sick of her and her emotional bull shit. Everything I do I wrong. She just threw me in here, wouldn't even tell me what I'd done," he snapped. "You actually asked what you'd done?" Ginger's tone was slightly reproachful. "Well, she wasn't too clear on that. Just started yelling at me and ran off to cry into her stupid stuffed cow." He dropped onto his couch, arms crossed, sulking. Ginger perched on the arm of the couch, shaking her head at him. "BJ, you never, _ever_ ask a girl what you've done wrong when she's mad at you. Especially when you're the one in the wrong." "Me?! She was the one getting totally shitfaced and falling asleep with two half naked guys!" "You didn't even let her explain. Nothing, and I mean nothing happened. They literally just fell asleep like that. They hit it off, and got to chatting. Think about it, Crowe doesn't have any friends outside us, and if you two are getting married, 'bout time she met other ghosts here."

While Beej pondered that, Jacques added to the conversation. "Plus, you were the one who partied the most. She only got slightly drunk, and made new friends. You got especially friendly with the entertainment," he said, nodding sanctimoniously. He glared evilly at them both, but they were immune to it. "Do you always have to be right?" "It's sorta our job hun," Ginger pat his shoulder. "I should go make up then?" he got to his feet. "Wait 'til morning. Let her calm down, she won't appreciate you interrupting her sleep yet again. Plus, come morning, she may 'ave a calmer head, and be more willing to listen to you," Jacques advised. BJ sighed, "Fine, fine. Whatever." He floated up through the ceiling to his room to sleep off the remnants of the alcohol, much as Crowe was doing in her world. Luckily for them both, they had Ginger and Jacques to patch things up between them.

_A/N: sorry it took so long to update. I hope this makes up for it. I'm not too pleased with the ending, but it was starting to get away from me, so I figured I had to. I'll continue in the next chapter, promise. _


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Beetlejuice and all that doesn't belong to me. Only Crowe and the other OCs, do, etc. Here's chapter 13._

Crowe woke with a killer hangover, thanks to the drinking and emotional turmoil of the night previous. But a hot bath with herbal bubble bath and a couple ibuprofens fixed that. She vowed never to drink so much again, or if she did, to never argue with Beej right afterwards.

While her bathwater drained, she got dressed, slipping into a black plaid skirt, a black tank top, and an over large sweatshirt over it, that was white with wide flowing black sleeves that hung over her fingertips. She pulled on thigh high black and white socks and ankle high black boots. She gelled her hair so it looked nicely tousled, and lined her eyes in black eyeliner. She was going to the Neitherworld, but not to see BJ. Rather to be seen by him, to remind him what he stood the chance of losing if he didn't get his act together and stop fighting with her.

The door to the Neitherworld closed behind her, and she barely spared the Roadhouse a glance. Instead, she set off up the crooked path towards the Eye Scream parlor, where there was a bank of payphones. She slipped a card out of her pocket and dialed the number scrawled on the back. A male voice picked up after a few rings.

"Hello?"

"Ace?"

"Yeah, who's this?"

"Crowe, from last night?"

"Ah! The bird with the angry fiancé that threw me an' Ian out! What's up love?"

"Wondered if you and Ian would care to join me for the afternoon? Maybe have lunch, see a movie?"

"Won't your hubby get even more pissed?"

"That's the idea," Crowe smirked into the phone.

"Ooh! Vindictive, I like it. We'd be honored to join you. Where do you want to meet?"

"The Eye Scream parlor?"

"Perfect, we'll see you there soon."

They hung up and Crowe leaned against the wall. Of course BJ would not like that she was here and not visiting him. That she was in fact with two male strippers. But Ace had said it, she was feeling vindictive.

Ace and Ian drove up in a slick looking red Neitherworld convertible. It had spinning spider web rims, the steering wheel had the appearance of chrome bones, and miniature chrome skeleton hand gripped the top of the gearshift. Ace parked and held the door open for Ian to get out.

"'Lo love, how's things been since last night?" Ian greeted her. "Spectacular," Crowe said sarcastically. "Beej was not pleased that you were there. We argued, and I banished him. Today, I want him to pay for it, but only a little." "And you want us to help?" Ace grinned. "Well, partially. Plus, I don't have many friends here…" she trailed off. "We certainly couldn't leave a lady on her own, to fend for herself, could we Ian?" Ace looked at him. "Of course not," Ian answered, meeting his gaze. There was something in their gaze, a sense about them, the way they smiled at each other, and how Ace had held the door for Ian, that made Crowe pause, and tilt her head to the side.

"I don't mean to pry, and I apologize if I'm out of line, but, are you two…together?" Both their grins widened. "Guilty as charged," Ace answered. "How long?" Crowe followed them to their car, perching on the side of the car. "Since…oh too many years to count," Ace looked thoughtful, like he was trying to remember. Ian sighed, tugging playfully on the blonde ponytail Ace had pulled his hair into. "What? Honestly, it's been _that_ long," he protested. "Then what was with the flirty act last night?" "We wouldn't be very good entertainment if we were more interested in each other than you, would we?" "I suppose not," Crowe slid into the seat as Ace and Ian took the front and they started off.

"Can't tell you how much we enjoy being here either. I think dying might've been the best thing for us," Ian turned in his seat to talk to her. "Why?" "You're in school right? You've heard of kings and such?" Crowe nodded. "Well, Ace there, he was part of the nobility. A prince with land, titles, riches…everything you could ever want, but he didn't." "I wanted him," Ace tossed a soft smile at Ian as he drove. "I however, was a lowly stable boy. And the nobility, much less princes, didn't have rolls in the hay with stable boys. Well, actually, rolling in the hay with the help was acceptable, as long as no one knew, but the fact that we were both male…that was the straw that broke the camel's back. We were found out, by my boss, the head groom, who told Ace's father, the king." Ian's voice lowered, and his eyes hardened. He still couldn't believe this part. Crowe didn't dare speak, for fear he'd stop telling her. And she wanted to know what happened next.

"Anyway, Ace's mum, well, step-mom, couldn't believe the scandal. She went to the apothecary. The woman in charge of the apothecary was said to be a witch, she could make potions to heal the most grievous injurious, stop death, or steal the life from you with hardly a mark on your body. Guess which one the queen bought," he asked rhetorically. Crowe gasped softly. "She poisoned you both?" "Didn't want us sullying the family name. Plus, with Ace with me, he couldn't exactly produce a male heir now could he? It was so painful, but we hardly bore a scratch on us. Just a little blue 'round the lips, bruising at the eyes. And poof, we were dead, and here we are, centuries later and still blissfully in love."

"That has to be the most adorable thing I've heard in a while," Crowe sighed. "Like…Romeo, and, err…Romeo. But how come you don't look all that dead? In fact, you're both really hot," she laughed. "Thanks," Ian gave as good a bow as he could in the car. "We're keeping ourselves that way. It works better in our line of work," Ace said. "So I'm guessing Ace and Ian aren't your real names?" "They're real enough for now. However, this is how we really talk," Ian added, referring to the soft British accent they both had, which hadn't been there the night before. "I think I prefer this voice. But then again I'm a sucker for an accent." "We could quote lovely poetry for you, if you'd like." "Or teach that husband of yours how to," Ace added. "Something tells me he wouldn't listen. He argues with me, and yet gets jealous of any other guy with me." "It's just 'cause he cares lovey, that's all. He just doesn't know it."

Ace and Ian showed Crowe all the nicest parts of the Neitherworld that she had yet to see with Beetlejuice. They ate lunch at a restaurant run by a chef who, when alive, had been head chef at a five star Italian restaurant. Crowe, who was coming to love Neitherworld cuisine, thought it delicious, and Ace and Ian, the epitome of chivalry, footed the bill. They took her along the shops, where they gazed at all the expensive things, wanting to buy them but deciding against it at the last moment. There was no way Crowe would let them buy her a black pearl necklace or some other trifle. Though she might talk BJ into buying them.

"Feeling better luv?" Ian asked, glancing down at her. Crowe stood in between them, linking arms with them as they strolled down the beach. "Actually yeah. Thanks for coming on such short, spontaneous notice," she answered. "Not a problem. You're one of the few clients we actually like; you weren't ragingly drunk, overly horny, and pawing at us like we're just toys." "Truthfully, I've never had a bachelorette party, I didn't know how to behave," Crowe admitted sheepishly. "You were the picture of discretion, considering," Ace patted her on the head. "I see this as the beginning of a very nice friendship. You two have so earned invites to the wedding." "You just met us last night." "So, I'm an excellent judge of character." "Of course, that's why you're getting married to Beetlejuice," Ian answered sarcastically. "Well, I didn't exactly choose that, though he has grown on me somewhat," Crowe said thoughtfully. "What d'you mean you didn't choose to marry him?" Ace asked. "Oh, of course, you two wouldn't know. Here, let's go to the Eye Scream parlor, I'll tell you the whole story."

By the time Crowe had finished recounting her story, from her mother and BJ's friendship, to their fall out, to her mother's death and her subsequent betrothal to finally the here and now, the sun was setting and dusk gathering. Ian and Ace drove Crowe back to the door and she was in her room at 7:30 pm. "Thanks for a great time!" Crowe called as they left. "Don't mention it lovey, it was a pleasure spending the day in your company. Let us know when the wedding is!" Grinning like a fool, Crowe closed the door and watched as her room shifted back to normal. She tossed herself onto her bed, clutching McMuffin the cow and sighing. Today was definitely in her top five best days ever.

Inside the Roadhouse, Beej was fuming. Ginger watched timidly from her corner of the ceiling, her web trembling as the walls shook when he kicked them. "God damn it! She's trying to piss me off isn't she? What the hell was she thinking, going off with those two pansy strippers? When I get my hands on them," he made a violent twisting motion with both hands before collapsing on his couch. He had intended on trying to make up with Crowe earlier, and had trailed her to the Eye Scream parlor, thinking maybe he could gain some insight into what to do to patch things up. When he'd seen her with the two strippers, he'd started to get angry. When they took her for lunch, he was livid. By the time they showed her around, giving her such a damn good time, he'd been so pissed…then to over hear that she'd invited them to the wedding, _if_ they were still having it, had been the straw that broke the camel's back.

"She's just getting back at you a bit Beetlejuice, you really hurt her yesterday," Ginger said, hesitantly dropping down to see him better. "She didn't have to go on that date with them. I get her wanting to make friends, but…them?" Ginger looked at him curiously, an idea forming. "Are you jealous?" "What?" "You are! You're jealous of Ace and Ian! Oh but you don't have to be, they're together." "Doesn't stop them from being so damned perfect looking," BJ growled, though he was calming slightly. "Beetlejuice, from what I saw yesterday, she's not interested in them like that. For some strange reason, she does seem to care about you. If you ask me, I think she might've been jealous that you got too up close and personal with your entertainment. You're both so stubborn; you get in your own way and can't just enjoy each other's company." BJ glared at her smiling smugly in front of his face. "If you're so smart, what the hell am I supposed to do now?" "Find out a movie she likes," Ginger started. "Movie?" "Shush, let me explain. Get a movie she likes, plan a date night. You make dinner; I'll help you with that actually, and then show the movie. Maybe even get a projector, and get some snacks. You two get cozy on the couch or wherever. Show her you care, you're a gentleman. It'll make the whole married thing go a lot smoother. And think how much better your honey moon will be if you're not trying to kill each other."

The pink spider watched the thought take shape in his head, and a slow smirk spread across his face. "I like that idea. I like it a lot. You don't know what movies she likes do you?" "Nope. You'll have to find that out on your own," Ginger answered, climbing back to her web. "Damn, it figures," BJ stood, and with a snap of his fingers was in the mirror in Crowe's room. She was dozing on her bed, lazily holding a book. As he watched, her eyes shut, and her head slumped forward onto her bed. The book, which he saw was _Les_ _Miserables_, slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor. She had fallen asleep. "Perfect," BJ muttered, and slipped from the mirror into her room. He pawed through her movies, trying to find one that looked like it was her favorite, and he wouldn't mind watching either. Finally, at the bottom of the pile, he found just what he was looking for. He quickly scrawled out a note and left it where Crowe would find it, and bolted back into the Neitherworld before she woke up.

Crowe stretched, looking around for her book. Instead she found a scrap of paper with a barely legible not written across it. _Hey Babes, I want to sort of apologize. Come to the Neitherworld, I got you a present. Beej. _She read and re-read the note to make sure she wasn't seeing things. He wanted to apologize? Right, of course he did. Although, he did mention a present. Maybe just a peek. She showered and changed quickly, opening the door to the Neitherworld. She stalked into the Roadhouse without knocking, and found it eerily quiet. "Beetlejuice?" "Up on the balcony Babes," he yelled. "How do I get up there?" She heard him grumbling before his hand appeared through the ceiling, took hers and pulled her up.

"So what do you want?" she asked, crossing her arms across her chest and staring him down. "I wanted…to apologize. I kinda…over reacted," BJ muttered. "Ya think? Jesus Beej, you just show up drunk off your ass, and start yelling, barely giving me a chance to talk. And then, you come to my room, because your bed's cold, don't even know what you did, only that I'm mad, so you should apologize." "Yeah well, what was I supposed to think, seeing you passed out on the floor with them?" "You should've let me explain myself instead of flipping out," Crowe snapped. "What about today then, when you went off with them? You just met them!" "So? I can have friends here if I want. And besides, they're blissfully in love. Also, how did you know I was with them anyway?" Beetlejuice had the good grace to look sheepish. "Were you spying on me?!" "I was trying to figure out what to do to patch things up. Then I saw you with the strippers and…well, I still got this dinner together."

Now that he'd said something, Crowe actually paused to look around. It _was_ beautiful, in a macabre sort of way. He'd cleared the balcony, setting a table for two on it. The table cloth was crimson and black, a startling contrast to the silverware and white plates. Smirking, Beetlejuice snapped his fingers and a screen appeared next to the table. As he pulled out Crowe's seat for her, the movie started. "What movie are we watching?" "Be quiet and you'll find out Babes." "And what's for this dinner?" "Babes, seriously, shut up and let me take care of it."

Dinner was revealed to be spaghetti and meatballs, and was surprisingly delicious. Crowe almost asked what was in them, but decided against it. She probably really didn't want to know. The opening credits started on the movie, and she instantly recognized the stark, comic book like prologue. "BJ." Beetlejuice looked up, sauce dripping down his chin. "Wha'?" "Where did you happen to find a copy of _Repo: The Genetic Opera_?" "Around," he answered evasively, wiping his hand across his chin. "Would around happen to be anywhere near my bedroom?" "Might've been somewhere near there, yeah," Beej shrugged. "I could kill you sometimes, I really could." "Too late Babes. Just watch the damned movie. I picked it special," even to himself, he sounded petulant. Judging by the grin, Crowe heard it too. "You're such a brat," she chuckled. "Am not," he stuck out his tongue. "Case in point," Crowe's grin widened into a smirk. "You're the brat, and a daddy's girl," BJ flicked a bit of meatball at her across the table. "Talk about the pot calling the kettle black," Crowe scooped up spaghetti on her fork and flung it at him.

By the time Ginger had the presence of mind to peek out and see how they were getting along, the movie was almost over, and they were sitting on the floor, covered in spaghetti, sauce, and bits of meatball. Crowe was resting her head on Beetlejuice's shoulder, and his arm was around her waist. "So? 'Ow are zey fairing?" Jacques peered around the entry way to the balcony. "Typically for them. Look at them," Ginger gestured to the pair. "Most couples I know eat their romantic dinner, not throw it at each other." "Oui. But zey are not exactly your average couple," Jacques added. "Nope, they're not. At least they've stopped shouting. It was giving me a headache."

Crowe drifted off as the credits rolled, sliding down until her head was pillowed on Beetlejuice's thigh, and his hand was resting on her side. His head had lolled forward awhile ago, and his chin was resting on his chest, and he was snoring. Slowly, he swayed to the side and curled up. Crowe, disturbed from her sleep, crawled around so she was back to back with him and drifted off once more.

They woke up like that, within minutes of each other, when morning came. Crowe stretched, her back stiff and her hair plastered to her head with sauce. "I feel disgusting." "You say that like it's a bad thing," BJ yawned, scratching his head. "Too you, it may be fine to wake up feeling this gross. Not me. I want a shower, badly. Can I use yours?" "I could clean ya if ya want Babes. Easier than showering." "Oh yeah?" Beej snapped his fingers, and she was free of the remnants of the previous night's dinner. "So you can. Thanks." "That's it? Thanks?" "What more do you want? Do you want me to fall to my knees, praising you and promising to do your bidding?" "Now that you mention it…" "Shut up. Now. Just…stop talking." "Fine, but one thing first." "What's that?" "Are we through fighting? Over this anyway?" "I suppose so," Crowe sighed. "Good." "We're still having Ace and Ian at the wedding though." "We are not!" "Yes, we are." "No way Babes." "Yes, Beetlejuice, way. And I dare you to try and stop me," Crowe said defiantly. He tried to meet her gaze, but couldn't handle it. "Fine, fine, we'll have the strippers at the wedding." "Their names are Ace and Ian," she snapped. "Like I care. It's not like they're my best man or anything."

"Don't count on that." BJ paled, if that was possible. "Babes, Crowe, you wouldn't…would you?" "I might. I might not. Depends. They wouldn't care either way. We clicked; I'm sure they'd do it if I asked," Crowe tapped her lip idly. "Babes, c'mon seriously," BJ begged. "I'll let them in the wedding, hell, they can be the ring bearer for all I care, but I don't want them for best men." "Why not?" "Well," he looked uncomfortable. "Monster Across the Street wants that. Hell if I know why. And I'm kind of afraid of what would happen if he was told he couldn't be anymore." "What would he do?" "I don't know, but I doubt I'd be getting married in one piece." "He doesn't like you, yet wants to be best man. I'll never understand." "Just accept it for what it is Babes. Call up your friends; make sure they're free for the wedding, whenever that is. I'm going to go scrounge for breakfast." "Try not to kill anything for food," Crowe called, flipping open her cell phone. "No promises." "Don't expect me to eat it if there's ground up bugs in it." "Who says I'm sharing with you?" "You're a jerk." "Takes one to know one Babes."

_A/N: so, this took me forever. It's more like filler in between chapters. A resolution from last chapter. The plot picks up next chapter, promise_.


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: so, as promised, the plot will now fly in through the window and we can get back on track. I apologize for the last chapter; I just sort of lost it half way through, and didn't know what to do. But it's all good now. Oh, and the wedding is on April Fool's day. I just thought I should mention that. _

Ace hesitated, his knuckles about to graze the door. He'd just heard a very painful sounding thump, followed by a string of curses that would make a pirate blush, and a low whimper. "Crowe? You all right in there, ducky?" Crowe looked up at the familiar pet name from outside her bedroom door. She grasped her reddening ankle, screwing up her eyes against tears. "Fine Ace, I'm fine." "You don't sound fine. Can I come in?" "Yeah, c'mon in. Ian too, I know he's out there with you."

He peeked around the door at her, and indeed Ian was with him, stretching up to see over his shoulder. "Oh, love, what happened?" Ian knelt and helped Crowe to her feet. "I'm not good in heels, and pacing doesn't help," Crowe gritted her teeth against crying out as Ace and Ian led her to her bed. "May I?" Ian asked, gesturing to her ankle. "May you what?" "Ooh, we never showed you? Let him do this lovey, he's brilliant at it," Ace grinned, looking down affectionately at Ian, who was slipping into deep concentration. He settled Crowe's ankle into his lap, resting his hands on it. Crowe gasped as his palms grew first icy cold, then so hot she felt her skin ought to crack and peel. When he pulled them away, the swelling and redness had gone, as had the pain. "Thanks, that feels great," she flexed her ankle. "Happy to be of service," Ian inclined his head.

"So what was the problem anyway?" Ace asked. "Nerves I think. No, I know. I'm getting married in a few hours. BJ and I just got out of a big fight; we're on very good terms now. But…it suddenly feels more real. I was not meant to pace worriedly in this dress and heels," Crowe spread out her hands, encompassing her dress and shoes. Her dress was the standard white, and that was where the similarities ended. Ginger had helped put the dress together, and it was perfect. It was off the shoulder, and the straps around her arms made out of layers of spider silk, as was the skirt. The first layer of the skirt went to just above her ankles, the next a few inches higher, and so on until the final layer went to a little past her hips. And the edges of each layer were uneven, giving them a jagged, edgy look. Ginger had also crafted the veil of spider silk as well. Crowe felt beautiful in it. Her heels were white satin, ruffled around the tops, with straps around her ankles.

Ace slung an arm around her shoulders, while Ian slipped his arm around her waist. "Crowe, it's natural to be nervous on your wedding day. BJ isn't exactly the picture of calm, cool and collected downstairs." "He's not?" "Nope. He'll deny it, but he's nervous as well. This is the real thing, neither of you has done this before. But we'll be here, and your dad, and Ginger, and Jacques, all of us," Ian assured her, bumping his head against her shoulder. "Not my mom," Crowe whispered, so softly they almost didn't hear. They shared a glance over her head. "You know lovey, if we could bring her back for you, we would," Ace promised. "I know, but then I doubt I would've met any of you. It's sort of a lose-lose from that perspective," Crowe sighed heavily, tucking back her hair, which she had carefully curled and piled up. "I'm better now. I can do this." "We would be honored if you'd allow us to escort you downstairs to your future husband," Ace and Ian stood simultaneously, a smooth practiced movement, and offered their hands. Rolling her eyes, but grinning at the chivalry, Crowe took them and got to her feet. They slipped their arms through hers, and took her to the stairs.

* * *

Music from nowhere heralded her arrival, playing a sort of upbeat dirge to the tune of "Here Comes the Bride." At the bottom of the stairs Ace and Ian passed Crowe on to her father, who looked just as much a wreck as the rest of them. But he pat her hand gently, and lead her to the living room, where BJ stood awkwardly with the same small, wrinkled priest who had nearly married him and her mom once so long ago. He'd donned a rather nice black tux, which Ollie had actually helped him to get. He'd even combed back his hair, but hadn't washed it. Crowe couldn't have cared less in all honesty. She grinned slightly up at him. "Hey Beej." "Babes. So uh, this is it, huh?" "I guess so. You…you ready?" "If you are," Beetlejuice offered his hand to Crowe, who took it, squeezing lightly. The ceremony itself flew by, with the usual vows and exchanging of rings. Within a mere two hours, they were man and wife, and the reception party was under way. Ollie passed out plates of cake to those who could eat it, and Crowe gratefully stepped out of her heels.

"Hey Babes," BJ called mischievously. "Yeah?" Crowe turned just in time to get a face full of cake. The room fell silent minus Beej's mad cackling. Crowe scraped frosting from her face so she could see, far too shocked to be angry. With a wicked smirk, she shoved her plate into his face. He blinked at her from a mask of petal pink frosting while she laughed at him and caught the plate as it fell. Ollie rolled his eyes and sighed; at least they weren't fighting anymore.

"So, ready to go Babes?" "Go where?" "Honeymoon. Obviously. Got your things packed?" "Umm, how about no? I didn't…I hadn't thought…damn," Crowe lifted the skirt of her dress so she could run up the stairs and hastily throw some clothes in a duffel bag, along with some books, her cell phone, a few other things. She nearly fell down the stairs, "Now I'm ready. You could've told me prior y'know." "Yeah, I could've done a lot of things, what're you gonna do? Let's go." "Where are you two going anyway?" Ollie asked, all paternal concern. "It's a surprise pops. But don't worry about it; I got it all under control." "That's what worries him," Ace muttered. BJ scowled at him, but did nothing more as Crowe lightly elbowed him in the stomach. "Right, well, thanks for coming. We both appreciate it, I guess. Now I'm gonna go make an honest woman of her," BJ wrapped and arm around Crowe's shoulders. The last thing the guests heard before the newlyweds vanished was a scandalized "BJ!"

* * *

All animosity Crowe had towards Beetlejuice for embarrassing her vanished at the sight of the room she found herself in. By her standards, it was perfect, if a little on the cheesy side; not that she expected anything less from BJ. The bed was larger than it needed to be, looking like it would hold 2 dozen, as opposed to two. It was outfitted in dark crimson silk sheets, a matching comforter, and mounds upon mounds of pillows. Similarly colored curtains wrapped around the sides of the bed, offering privacy should they wish it. Crowe tore her eyes away from the bed to inspect the rest of the room. Unsurprisingly, the décor matched the bed, shades of crimson, with black, gold, and white to break it up.

"So?" BJ asked, trying to stifle his anxiousness by shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. "It's…like being inside a box of cards. But I like it. I really do," Crowe flung herself backward on the bed, kicking off her heels once again. "This is nice," her voice came muffled from the blankets. With a flying leap, Beetlejuice dove onto the mattress next to her, sending her bouncing up and almost to the ground. "Was that really necessary?" "Do you even have to ask anymore Babes?" "No, I suppose not. Where's the bathroom?" "Why?" "So I can take all the pins and such out of my hair." "Oh. Over there," he gestured to a door across the room before settling further into the nest of silk. Crowe struggled to get off the bed and marched across into the bathroom.

Once she had an illusion of security with the door locked, she latched onto the sink, trying to get her breathing even. "Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod," she panted. She wasn't a complete fool; she knew what happened on honeymoons. And here she was, on _her honeymoon_, with the most lecherous corpse she had ever met, lounging on a bed with freaking silk sheets! Her reflection gazed back at her with wide eyes, the scar on her cheek standing out. She lightly grazed it with her fingertips, a souvenir from an event she couldn't recall. Her father had never told her the specifics, but she'd guessed. Just as she would have to do now. Hair pins pinged off the porcelain sink, a few hitting the ground as Crowe shook her hair out, leaving it in haphazard loops and whirls that floated around her face. With her smoky dark eye makeup, and brilliant red lip gloss, she looked more grown up than she felt, very just rolled out of bed. Giggling nervously, she practiced a 'come-hither' look in the mirror, and declared herself as ready as she ever would be.

"What took you…so…long," BJ's jaw dropped as he gaped at Crowe. "What?" "Well, Babes, to be blunt, you're looking pretty god damned sexy as hell." Crowe flushed, pink staining her pale cheeks. "Thanks BJ," she mumbled. He'd told her she was pretty before, she even believed he meant it, but to hear it now was different. "Yeah, you're welcome. There's just one little thing," Beetlejuice sat up so he was cross legged, giving her a grin she'd learned to be wary of. He aimed his finger at her, miming a gun. Without warning, the back of Crowe's dress came unlaced, and the front sagged. With a soft squeak, she held it up, the blush spreading down her neck, across her whole face. But he'd seen enough; for instance, he now knew that she was wearing a new bra that was emerald green, trimmed in black ruffled lace, and had a tiny green silk bow tied in the center. What he wanted to know was if the underwear matched. But there was the problem of her clutching the dress to herself like it was the last solid thing on earth. However, he had just the solution.

"Oh, hey Babes," Beetlejuice called cajolingly. "What now?" Crowe was trying vainly to re-lace the dress, at least enough that she didn't feel quite so naked. "I got you a wedding present," he made a show of reaching behind his back. "Close your eyes and hold out your hands." "I'm not falling for that one," she rolled her eyes and returned to her dress. "But I really have something. C'mon, you can trust me. Scouts honor." "BJ, I can't trust you as far as I can throw you," Crowe chuckled. "You say the nicest things Babes. But really, just close your eyes, and if it makes you feel better, hold out just one hand." Still suspicious, Crowe held up the dress with one hand, shut her eyes, and held out her other hand. Something flat and heavy fell into it.

"Oh…my…god! You…Beej do you have any idea how hard it is to get this? I've tried, it wasn't in print for the longest time," Crowe gazed almost lovingly at the graphic novel she held in her hands. Her dress slid to the floor, unnoticed as she read through the foreword in the first few pages of _The Crow_ by James O'Barr. "Well, you said it was like your favorite movie. Figured you like that. Only the best for my Babes," BJ answered, with no small amount of preening. Also, he noted gleefully, the underwear matched the bra.

Crowe stretched across the bed, her stocking feet kicking back and forth. She turned each page reverently, trying not to crease or rip a single one. It didn't even register with her when the bed creaked and shifted as Beetlejuice climbed up behind her. When he slid his cold hands down her shoulders, she nearly jumped out of her skin. "Forget the book for now Babes. Ok? There's more important things." Crowe stiffened as she felt him fumbling at the back of her bra. "Problems?" she glanced out of the corner of her eye at him. "No," the ghost growled, "just trying to unsnap this damned thing. How the hell...Babes, make it work."

Stifling her laughter, Crowe reached behind her and undid the clasp of her bra. "And that was without even looking," she said smugly. Suddenly she found herself on her back, with Beetlejuice bracing himself above her. "How did you do that?" "I'm just that good Babes."

The lights dimmed steadily. The graphic novel slipped from Crowe's hand, landing on the plush floor with a muffled thump. Were one to pass through the hallway by the door to Crowe and BJ's room, and were they to glance at the door, they'd see a "Do Not Disturb" sign materializing, and hear the lock sliding home.

* * *

The entire weekend was spent thus. When Crowe returned to school the following Monday, she hardly noticed Clarissa, or any of her friends. She drifted through classes, unable to stop the slight smile that turned up the corner of her lips. On her wrist, BJ wore a similar contented expression on his snake face. He generally let her be during school, choosing to sleep rather than lay there bored. However, on occasion, usually during lunch, he woke, and took a wicked sort of pleasure in teasing her; he climbed under her sleeve to rub against her neck, or flicked his tongue just behind her ear, and basically did all he could to make her squirm and blush. Yeah, she scolded him for it when they got home, but it was worth it.

"Not now Beej, I'm trying to do homework," Crowe scooped him from around her neck and set him on the bed. "But I'm bored," he whined, transforming back to himself and stretching out. "Too bad. I've got to do this if I want to keep up my grades." "Who cares about keeping up with grades? What's calculus ever done for you?" "You should care BJ. If I keep up my grades, like keep them at a 90 or above, then I get excused from finals. Do you know what that means?" He shook his head. "It means, Mr. Juice, that I don't have to go in to school during finals week, and can stay here, sleep in late, go to the Neitherworld…" Crowe trailed off meaningfully. "Oh. Ohhhh," realization dawned on Beetlejuice, and he changed himself into a calculator. "So what're you waiting on Babes, get cracking on that calculus."

Crowe studied through the evening without pause. Ollie let her; provided she ate the dinner he made and brought up to her room. He was startled to see Beetlejuice helping as best he could, acting as a calculator that both computed complicated math problems and kept Crowe entertained and not too intensely focused.

"Hey pops," the ghost greeted him. "Hi daddy," Crowe added, sitting up and tucking her pencil behind her ear. "Brought you dinner," Ollie nudged the door open and set the tray of BLT sandwiches cut into triangles on the bed. "Oh, thanks, those look good," Crowe snagged a triangle, munching on the corner. "How's the studying going?" "It's going alright. Calculus is a little tricky, as always, but Beej is helping." "So I saw. That's nice of him. Just, try not to stay up too late, ok?" "I'll go to bed soon. I promise. I'm almost done." "Ok. Good night sweetie. And…good night Beetlejuice," Ollie left the room, pulling the door almost closed as he left.

"Beetlejuice?" Crowe whispered into the darkness as she lay in bed. "What's up Babes?" "My birthday is soon. Next month, in a couple weeks really." "Ok? So what?" "What're you getting me?" "You think I'm going to tell you? Nice try but I don't think so." "Damn."

Damn was in fact right. Beetlejuice hadn't known it was her birthday soon. What the hell was he going to get her? Nice of her to tell him now. What did she want?

* * *

The day of Crowe's birthday dawned overcast and muggy. Beetlejuice opted to remain at the house, sighting that staying as a snake in the weather wasn't good for him. Crowe gave him a skeptical look, but let him be. In reality, the minute she was gone and Ollie off to work, he sent himself to the Neitherworld, where Ginger and Jacques met him.

"You are sure she 'az no idea?" Jacques jogged alongside the others. "Not a clue. But this is gonna be the best birthday the kid's ever had, minus last year when she got me. Wait a sec," BJ screeched to a stop. "This is our one year anniversary too. Not married like, but when we met." "That makes it doubly important," Ginger chimed from her perch on his shoulder. "That also makes it that much harder on me. what if it ends up being a bad party?" "It will not be," Jacques said consolingly. "She will love eet."

* * *

At school, Crowe was missing Beetlejuice more than she cared to admit. Her wrist felt awkward without him wrapped around it, and she had no one to talk to now. She rubbed unconsciously at where he usually lay, and pulled open her locker. As she knelt down to collect her books, she felt a shadow fall over her.

"Hey, Hawkins, heard it was your birthday today." Slowly, she craned her neck up and around to see who was talking to her. It was Aiden, a friend of Dwayne's who was surprisingly not on the football team. That was about all Crowe knew about him, besides the undeniable fact that he was attractive, with striking green eyes and dark auburn hair. And when he gave her a half smile, dimples flashed in his cheeks. Crowe shook her head, willing her brain to catch up. But…woah. Even for a friend of Dwayne, he was hot, and he was _talking_ to her! _Nicely_!

"Um, yeah, it's my nineteenth birthday today," she finally managed, resisting the urge to smile sappily. "Cool. Happy birthday then. Listen, you doing anything this weekend?" "This weekend? You mean, like the Saturday that's just in two days?" "That's what I mean, yeah." Aiden turned up the smile, from a half shy grin to a full on dazzling, charming smile that probably made girls melt into their socks. "N-no. I've got no plans. Why?" "You wanna catch a movie maybe?" "Sure! I'd love to," Crowe answered, standing up and practically beaming. "Cool," Aiden said once more. "I'll meet you at the movie theater about 7:30 Saturday night then?" "Absolutely. Yes, I'll be there." She watched him go with a small wave, and for once in recent times was glad BJ wasn't there.

"Oh Beetlejuice! Are you here? I've gotta talk to you about something." No one answered Crowe when she got home. Not that her dad was out of work yet, but she expected BJ to be there. Instead, a note was tucked partly under her pillow on her bed.

_Babes, get yourself dressed up and wait in front of my place at 8. I got a surprise for ya. B._

After calling her dad and letting him know where she'd be, Crowe jumped into the shower, washing away the dregs of the school day. Clad only in her underwear and bra with a towel around her hair, she considered her closet. What to wear? It would've been nice if she'd been told a bit more. What was he planning? How nice should she dress? What shoes should she wear? And what would she do with her hair? An hour of deliberation later, Crowe had decided on tight black pinstriped Capri cut pants, a ruffled lacy black halter top, and black wedge heels. She twisted and clipped her hair up, leaving strands around her face and forming a sort of fan at the back of her head. She lined her eyes in black with grey cream eye shadow, and decided she was ready after adding the bat jewelry BJ had given her and painting her nails in metallic purple.

"Though I know I should be wary, still I venture someplace scary. Ghostly hauntings I turn loose, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!"

* * *

The clock struck eight as Crowe's room shifted around her, becoming the stone tower she knew and loved. "Beetlejuice?" she called hesitantly. His house was empty, the lights turned off. "So typical," she sighed, starting to get annoyed. "Invite me here and then not show." Her rant would have continued except for the twin lights that switched on, nearly blinding her. Doomie rolled out in front of her, engine rumbling. "Doomie? Are you in on this?" In response, the car beeped and reared up. "I'll take that as a yes. Just…take it easy ok?" Crowe clambered into the car, grateful when the seatbelt snapped into place on its own. "Thanks Doomie."

The Neitherworld was oddly quiet as Doomie drove up the winding roads. His headlights cut through the darkness, and Crowe huddled in the seat, peering over the side. "Where are you taking me?" she asked. Of course, Doomie didn't answer, other than soft beeping. "I figured that's what you'd say."

As they drove, and a half hour passed, Crowe started to notice a glow off in the distance. It was red and pulsing faintly. The closer they got, the brighter it became, and she started to hear music. But it was unlike any music she had ever heard. It was wild, and energetic, and had a deep thrumming bass that reached into your chest and took control of the heart beat and breathing. Doomie pulled to a stop in front of the source of the light and sound; a dance club. The red glow was the neon sign, bent to spell out _The Crypt._

"This is my surprise?" Crowe marveled as the car door swung out. The bouncer looked her over from his post in front of the club. "You Crowe?" "Yeah. Is…is this for me?" "Seems like. Have fun," he let her in to the small room just inside the door. It was like part coat check room, part depressurization chamber, where one could get used to the near suffocating music.

"Babes! Happy birthday!" BJ wrapped an arm around her. "You did this for me?" Crowe took in his appearance. He'd changed, somewhat. Black jeans in place of his usual striped pants. His vest looked like one of his striped shirts with the sleeves torn off, and hung open over his bare chest. He'd even combed his hair back into a loose ponytail. "Course I did it for you. You look smoking," he planted a kiss on her lips. "You too. I mean it. I like the hair," Crowe tugged on his ponytail briefly. "C'mon, the party's going awesome. You don't know many of'em, but don't worry about it. Just have fun."

The music was even louder inside, almost knocking Crowe off her feet. However, she soon grew accustomed to it, and hardly left the dance floor. Not that BJ would let her; he kept her close to him, making sure she danced with him through every song and that there was minimum space between them. "Beej, seriously, I need a drink," Crowe laughed, pulling him after her. "Alright, hang on," he swept through the crowd up to the bar, and returned with two drinks in large pina colada type glasses. One was a vibrant toxic green color, the other a glowing fuchsia.

"Here," he pressed the fuchsia drink into Crowe's hands and downed half the green one. "Just drink half, then we'll switch." Giving him a wary look, Crowe sucked half the drink down, pulling away with a gasp. "Christ on a stick, what is that?" "Don't worry Babes, just switch." The other drink was different, but mixed well with the other one. Crowe blinked rapidly, wondering when the room had started to tilt. "Probably should've told you, Neitherworld drinks are stronger than those up there," BJ snickered. "What? BJ, what the hell did you just give me?!" "Come on Babes, loosen up and have another drink." "No no no, BJ, before I'm totally drunk, I gotta talk to you," Crowe insisted, hoping she didn't puke. "What about?" "Come over here, where it's quieter."

BJ trailed after Crowe into the coat check and took up post leaning against the wall, arms folded. "What?" "Do you mind terribly if I go on a date this weekend? Just to the movies with a kid from school?" Her husband gaped at her. "You wanna go on a date?!" "Not really, just, he asked me. I won't let him try anything, and I'll tell him after that I'm not interested or whatever. Please? It's only gonna be a couple hours." Crowe grasped his arm, leaning into him. "Oh…alright Babes. But don't expect me to like it," he snarled. "Wouldn't dream of it. Thanks BJ, you're the best," Crowe placed a fleeting kiss on his cheek and sauntered back into the party.

"Yeah, I'm the best Babes, and don't you forget it."

_A/N: phew…finally got this done. I'm actually pretty happy with this chapter. Next one up, things take a turn for the worse. That's all I'll say on the matter. But fret not, I'm well aware of where I want this to go now, so updates should be more frequent. TTFN_


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: so, here's the next chapter. Now, I know it looks like Crowe is almost cheating on BJ. But trust me, it's not as it seems. Like I said in the last chapter, things are gonna take a turn for the worst now. I'm introducing not one but two villains. I know. Intense right? Buckle up then for the next chapter._

Crowe peeled herself off the bar table, wondering both how she'd gotten there, and why there was a little paper umbrella in her hair. Oh, and where the bathroom was, because all the alcohol she'd imbibed the night previous was threatening to make a reappearance.

She stumbled to her feet, trying not to giggle as the room spun around her. The anonymous party goers were gone, leaving her, BJ, Ginger and Jacques. BJ was slumped in a heap under a barstool, clutching a bottle in his hands. Ginger was hanging upside down from the ceiling, and Jacques was in the corner, minus one leg. Crowe knelt next to BJ, nudging his shoulder.

"BJ? BJ, where's the bathroom?" Beetlejuice groaned, rolling over and cracking open one eye to gaze blearily at Crowe. "Babes? What the fuck time is it? Where are we?" "We're at the club still. I dunno what time it is. But I gotta pee, and I feel like I might puke. Where's the bathroom?" Crowe was surprised at how coherent she was; hadn't BJ said Neitherworld drinks were stronger?

"Bathroom's…tha' way. I think. Lemme sleep Babes," the ghost waved vaguely in the direction of the back of the club and curled back up. Crowe tripped over him and towards where he'd indicated. The bathroom was in fact there, and fortunately she didn't puke. Though her head was starting to pound, promising a killer headache. She had no intention of going to school that day. No, she wanted some pain meds and a cup of tea and to go to bed.

"I'm never drinking again," she moaned, laying her head against the cool wall. Outside, BJ, Ginger, and Jacques were starting to stir, all in the same state as she was.

"'Az anyone seen my leg?" Jacques hobbled up, leaning against the wall. "Try the sound booth, last place I saw it," Ginger answered, dropping to the ground. Indeed, his leg was there, and he replaced it with a pop. "Time to get up hun," Crowe shook BJ. "Don't wanna," he complained, turning away. "We gotta. C'mon, we'll go back to the Roadhouse, I'll dash back to my house, get us all some Aleve or Advil, and we'll all get tucked in and vegetate." Crowe struggled to lift BJ to his feet, slinging his arm around her shoulders and straining to take a few steps.

Somehow they made it to Doomie, who was waiting for them, and drove them back to the Roadhouse. From there, Crowe went back to her house, and after checking that she didn't look too bad, went to greet her dad. "Hey, daddy, I'm staying at the Neitherworld today. We partied a little too hard last night, and BJ has a wicked hangover. I gotta take care of him, ok?" Ollie sighed, "Fine, but I expect you to get your homework that you miss. Otherwise no date Saturday." "No probs Dad. I promise. I'll see you a little later," Crowe gave her dad a swift kiss on the cheek and ran upstairs to the bathroom for the bottle of pain meds.

That brought up another point. _The_ _date_. What would she wear then? And why on earth did he want to go out with her anyway? Now that she thought on it…why did she say yes? Well, that was an easy one; he was cute and she had never been on a date with a real live, breathing boy before. That one time with BJ didn't count. So she'd just go on this date, politely tell him that it'd been fun but she wasn't looking for anything serious right now, and go back to BJ. Who had seriously grown on her. _Like_ _a fungus_, she thought, grinning. But an obnoxiously charming, oddly cuddly fungus.

* * *

Beetlejuice had changed by the time she got back, into his pajamas. He loaned her another shirt to wear, in appreciation for the pain meds. "You're an angel Babes," he swallowed two pills and leaned against her. "After last night, I think fallen angel might be more appropriate," Crowe muttered, making him snicker. "Maybe, but an angel all the same. Thanks." "It's nothing." They pulled a blanket around them, and got cozy, dozing peacefully.

"So who's the stiff you're going on a date with?" As he sobered up, BJ remembered that his Babes was going out with someone other than him. She was an adulteress, which shouldn't have sounded as sexy as it did.

"His name's Aiden. He's sorta cute I guess. No idea why he asked me out. But I don't know him at all, so I figure I'll just go on this one date, just to say I did, and then let him down. So you needn't be jealous." Smirking, Crowe pinched his cheek. Frowning and swatting her hands away, he growled, "I'm not jealous." "Certainly not. What was I thinking?"

"I dunno. But if you're going out with him, maybe I'll look up someone to spend the night with," he suggested slyly.

"You will not!"

_Now who's jealous?_ Beetlejuice chuckled to himself. "It's only fair Babes."

"But I'm not even going to enjoy myself! So neither can you!"

"Jealous much?"

"Nuh-uh. It's just…no, no looking up anyone. Doesn't mean I'm jealous or anything."

"Oh of course not. How could I think that."

"Shut up. Jackass."

"At least I'm not an adulteress."

"I am not!"

"Yes you are! First that Nate kid, now this."

"Beetlejuice, seriously, it's just a date. We're going to the movies and that's it. What do you think is gonna happen? He'll show up, throw me down and ravish me? And don't tell me that's what you'd do." He snorted in response, still unhappy.

"Look, would it make you feel better if you helped me pick out what to wear? That way it's nothing to revealing and you don't have to worry about him eyeing me," Crowe asked. "I guess that's ok then," he conceded. "Exactly. Now everyone's happy."

* * *

"Not that one Babes. That skirt's too short."

"Beej it goes past my knees."

"I think this one." "That one goes to my ankles! And it's velvet, I'll suffocate!"

"Fine," BJ said sourly, "what about these pants?"

"Alright, the pants are fine. Now I need a shirt."

"This one?"

"Beetlejuice, it is May, and starting to get humid. I can't wear that, I'll get heat stroke."

"Oh for Christ's sake Babes!"

Beetlejuice angrily threw himself onto a pile of clothes, glaring at Crowe. She had pulled on the pants they chose, a pair of stone washed faded black jeans that were tight but not exceedingly so. "What about this? Not too revealing, but still looks nice I think." Crowe held up the shirt. It was a pink fishnet tank top underneath, with a black tank top over it that had a few slits here and there to show the pink underneath. "Is this acceptable?" "Yeah, it works," BJ answered, still sounding grumpy. Pleased, she tugged it over her head. After that, she just had to clip her hair up, do her make-up and get her shoes on.

"What're you going to do while I'm gone?" "Sit at home and be bored all night." "Aww, Beej, c'mon you're making me feel bad here." "Well you should." "I'll be back in a few hours, ok? You're acting like I'm going to be gone forever," Crowe gave BJ a kiss and was out the door.

* * *

The theater was empty when her dad dropped her off. "Are you sure this is the right time?" Ollie asked. "Sure I'm sure. He'll be here, we're sorta early. You go on home dad, I'll be fine. I promise," Crowe unbuckled and got out of the car. "If you say so. Call if you need anything." As the car pulled out of the parking lot, Crowe sat herself down on the front steps, waiting nervously. Minutes ticked by, and she checked her cell phone periodically. No calls, and very soon Aiden was going to be late. But she'd wait, just a little longer. Just five more minutes, no ten more. Fifteen more minutes.

Obviously, Beetlejuice had no intention of go back to the Neitherworld. There was no way he'd let Crowe go out on a date without checking that she was ok, and the guy didn't try anything funny. He flung himself into the air and hovered over Crowe as she sat at the theater after making sure she couldn't see him. She was fidgeting, looking at her phone and checking up and down for any cars coming her way. There was only one SUV across the street, and it hadn't moved.

Crowe waited. Beetlejuice waited with her, invisible but keeping an eye on her. Eventually, after fourty-five minutes had passed; she got up, head hanging and shoulders slumping. Just as BJ was about to swoop down and gather her up though, she stopped, looking up. He followed her gaze, and saw five people climbing out of the SUV and stalking directly into her path.

* * *

"Now where are you going dressed like that Hawkins?"

It was Clarissa of course, with Dwayne, Rachael, Denise and someone else behind them Crowe couldn't quite see. They were all smirking though, most unpleasantly.

"You wouldn't be going on a date, would you?"

"None of your business Avery," Crowe muttered and tried to walk around them.

"But who'd go on a date with you?" Rachael sneered.

"It wouldn't be…Aiden, would it?" Denise added.

Crowe jerked to a halt and turned back. They parted and revealed Aiden standing in their midst. Denise walked back to him and twined her fingers in his hair. He wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her partway and planting a kiss on her lips. Crowe felt her stomach drop considerably as realization dawned on her. Forcing the tears that burned in her throat and her eyes away for a later time, she instead asked "Why?"

"Why what?" Clarissa demanded.

"Why the bloody hell do you always have to make my life miserable? What did I ever do to you? As far as I know, I've done nothing but try to exist and yet you…are always doing shit like this and I want to know why!" Crowe almost stomped her foot in aggravation, choosing rather to level a hard gaze at Clarissa.

"I've never told anyone," Clarissa began. "I didn't have to explain why you were the target. But you want to know why? Fine, I'll tell _you_. It's your fault anyway. I'm sure you recall a certain tragic highway accident? We all do, everyone felt so bad your mom died, she was such a brilliant photographer and poor you, having to see her die so young."

Across the way, Crowe clenched her fists, as did Beetlejuice, unseen above them. Neither liked where this narrative was going.

"But no one ever checked the Hummer you crashed into for the longest time. The driver was almost crushed, her legs badly broken resulting in months of physical therapy. She never could walk properly again, needing to either use a cane or wheelchair. And the priceless music box she was delivering to her niece's birthday party was smashed irreparably and ground into the pavement. Now, I'm sure you're wondering how I know this. See, she was my aunt, and her name was Claire Brewster."

* * *

Beetlejuice almost dropped out of the sky and into Crowe's arms. No wonder that chick was such a bitch, if she was related to Claire. She was just carrying on tradition by making Crowe's life hell. And speaking of Crowe, she had finally broken free of them, stumbling back in shock and running in the opposite direction. No doubt she'd look for him when she got home, but first, he had some payback to take care of.

The loud raucous laughter of Clarissa and her cohorts was cut short and turned into shrieks of pain as they were transported right into Beetlejuice's own special brand of payback. Bewildered and hurt they hung suspended by their wrists over a pit of sand. BJ flew in to hover in front of them, a malicious smirk curling the corners of his lips.

"Bad idea there, messing with her," he said. Clarissa started to speak, to protest no doubt, or ask who he was. But he didn't really want her talking; he wanted her, all of them, to listen. So he snapped his fingers and gagged them. "As I was saying, Crowe's a very close friend of mine, and so was her mom. So, I'm not too thrilled with you making her life hell. In fact, I was thinking of seeing to it you got a taste of your own medicine. Turnabout is fair play or something like that," he waved his hand airily. The teens struggled even more, the ropes around their wrists abrading the skin and making rivulets of blood stream down.

Beetlejuice frowned; if they were still struggling that clearly meant they were too comfortable. With another snap of his fingers, the ropes grew more rough and scratchy. He considered making them barbed wire, but it was likely they'd bleed out before that. Not that he couldn't just prevent that, but it was messy work. Now, what to do to really…ah, that was an idea. Below, the sand pit trembled and shook before a trio of sandworms burst out and reared up, snapping at the screaming teens. And as an afterthought, BJ added a pack of hungry timber wolves to patrol the border of the pit. These weren't the semi tame creatures of Lydia's childhood either; they were fierce, ravenous beasts that would maim anything they felt like. They bayed and howled and leapt up to nip at the heels dangling so temptingly above them.

Satisfied with his work, BJ left them. He wouldn't let them die of course, but he wanted to make sure his point got across. He passed through to Crowe's room, drifting onto her bed to relax a moment. It had been exhausting to be sure, but it had also felt good to do that again…it had been so very long. But no time to dwell on times past, he had a poor, tortured Babes to comfort.

* * *

On cue, Crowe flung her door open and ran right into his arms. She was shaking with suppressed anger and tears and let out a choking sob as she climbed onto BJ's lap. He slid his arms around her, rubbing her back and playing dumb.

"Babes, what's the matter? Your date didn't get overly friendly or anything, did he?" he asked, all indignant concern and almost gallantry. Crowe shook her head, trying to quell her tears enough to tell him.

"Did he make you pay for your own candy?" he tried again, and was pleased when he got a hiccupping laugh in response.

"No, no Beej it was awful. Clarissa set the whole thing up, she made him ask me out and then almost stand me up. And when I went to leave, they were all there to laugh at me. Aiden's even dating Denise!"

"But why?"

"That's the worst! Clarissa, she's…her aunt was Claire Brewster. And she was in the crash that…k-killed mom. Clarissa blames me for that. It's like she's just repeating all the things her aunt did to mom, but worse. This is the worst day ever," Crowe buried her head against Beetlejuice's chest and let the tears slide down her cheeks.

"Hey, Babes, c'mon, it's not a total bust. Still got me right, and we've got the rest of the weekend together," BJ slid his hand along her cheek to under her chin, lifting her head. He placed a light kiss on her forehead, his lips icy cold. His thumb ran along her cheek, wiping away the tears and the faint eyeliner tracks. "C'mon, let's go to the Neitherworld and I'll take you out to the Eye Scream parlor. Sound like a plan?" After a second's thought, Crowe nodded, and let BJ carry her while she chanted the words that opened the door to the Neitherworld.

* * *

Beetlejuice bought Crowe the biggest, most chocolaty ice cream sundae on the menu and split it with her. Not only was he pleased when she started to cheer up, but he was doubly pleased to see she didn't even question most of the toppings on the ice cream. Neitherworld food didn't bother her anymore.

Crowe examined herself in the back of the spoon. "Eurgh, I look awful. Why didn't you tell me?" She wiped at her nose and under her eyes, which were both puffy and red. Her eyeliner had faded and smudged and gave her the never popular drowned raccoon look. Also her hair was messed up from running home and then tackling BJ. In short, she didn't feel well, and tried to focus on the mundane rather than confront how bad her evening had gone.

"Babes, seriously, you look fine. Honest. Besides, you think anyone here really cares if you don't think you're at your best? That one guy over there has an axe sticking out of his head for god's sake!"

"I guess, but…my face is all blotchy and red," Crowe mumbled.

"So? It was a bad day, no one, least of all me, expects you to be daisy fresh. I know I don't care if you're all clean and just made up or just rolled out of bed and your hair's sticking up at a 90 degree angle. So quit your worrying and finish your ice cream."

Mollified, Crowe scooped out the last half melted glob and gulped it down. She trailed after Beetlejuice, scuffing her feet in the dirt and making little puffs of dust. Neither noticed the lights were off in the Roadhouse, or that the door had been left ajar until BJ tried unsuccessfully to turn the lights on.

* * *

"Now what the hell is this?" he growled. "Jacques did you forget to pay the lights again?"

No response came from the house, only Beetlejuice's voice echoing back at him. More unnerved than he'd admit to being, the ghost tried again. "Jacques? Ginger? Where are you?" Crowe too added her voice, calling for her friends. The entire time she pressed herself tighter against BJ, pulling his arm around her and trying in vain to ease her pounding heartbeat.

"Beej, I don't like this. Where is everyone?" she whispered, eyes wide in an attempt to see through the gloom.

"And why won't the lights go on? God damn it, this is spooky even for the Neitherworld," BJ gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "You stay here Babes, I'm gonna do some snooping, see if I can figure out what's going on. Just sit tight on the couch and don't move."

Crowe waited until she heard the tell-tale signs of Beetlejuice tripping over things to fade before carefully get off the couch and trying to find her own way. She promptly barked her shins hard on the low table in front of the couch and tumbled backward. Cursing under her breath, Crowe tried once more and was thrilled to discover she could make her way around the living room; though she was hobbling and more than once smacked her outstretched hands.

Something skittered across the floor, propelled by Crowe's foot slipping on it and punctuated by her surprised yelp. Calming herself, she reached down and felt for what she'd stepped on.

It was smooth, hard and about the length of her forearm, give or take. It was notched at both ends, as though it connected to something else. Crowe knelt to the ground, and reached out all around her. Similar objects spread out in a wide radius across the floor. They were all different sizes and shapes, but all were smooth, almost aged feeling and felt like they connected. Her fingers brushed something soft, like cloth and she realized what she was holding.

"Oh Jacques," her voice seemed loud in the darkness as she clutched his beret. She followed the bones, which led out of the living room and downstairs, gathering them in her arms. As she reached the basement door, Crowe transferred the bones to one arm and pulled out her cell phone. She could at least use its feeble light to cut through the thick darkness beyond the basement door.

The steps creaked and groaned under her feet, but Crowe by now was used to it. The handrail felt ancient under her hand, as though it would fall apart with a thought. Finally, she reached the bottom and held up her phone to chase back the shadows. She caught the gleam of eyes in a far corner, and rushed over.

Jacques head peered up at her from the floor, his eyes wide and a tatty old cloth stuffed in his mouth to keep him quiet. Above him, Ginger hung upside down, her legs all bound together. She too was gagged, and her eyes widened when she saw Crowe.

"Who did this?" Crowe wondered, setting down Jacques bones and reaching for the gags. Muffled protests came from both, and they shook their heads to the best of their ability. "Just a sec guys, and you'll be free," she struggled with the knot keeping the gag in place around Ginger's mouth. It fell away and the spider shrieked.

"Crowe get out of here! You've got to run!"

"What're you talking about?" Crowe gasped, swallowing her thudding pulse.

Ginger's gaze turned to behind Crowe and the spider began to scream in earnest, not words just one long, ragged scream as fast as she could draw breath. Crowe whipped around and saw a shadow detaching itself and coming at her. It was massive, and she backed into the wall. Her cell phone clattered to the ground and she too began to scream as the darkness enveloped her.

* * *

Beetlejuice jerked his head up at the sound of the screams. "Damn it Babes! I told you to stay put!" He sprinted down from his room, slipping on the bones and heading for the basement where the screams were emanating from. His feet hardly touched the stairs as he sped down them, hoping he'd make it. He stopped in his tracks at the bottom of the stairs, unable to believe his eyes.

Crowe was gone, her cell phone still dimly lit up with a small crack in the screen. Ginger's screams had died to pitiful whimpers from where she hung, and Jacques was trying desperately to reconnect himself. Cursing loudly, BJ slammed his fist into the wall, uncaring about the pain that shot through his knuckles all the way up his arm. He stomped up the stairs, intent on first getting the lights back on and then tracking down whoever had the balls to steal his Babes.

He never even saw the shadow that emerged from the darkness until it was too late and it was wrapped around him and he was already unconscious.

_A/N: ooh, plot twist! Who captured BJ and Crowe? What do they want with them? Find out in the next exciting installment of Grave Bait. _


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: raise your hand if you absolutely hated the cliffhanger and wanted me to continue the last chapter. Anyone? If so, then I've done my job and I'm actually quite happy about it. Anyway, here's the next bit, picking up where we left off. Enjoy._

Crowe regained consciousness on a bed. Not an entirely disagreeable way to wake up, minus the fact that it was a bed she did not recognize. Oh, and the chains binding her wrists and ankles to the bed didn't help ease the panic bubbling like soda in her stomach. Nor did the fact that she had no clue where BJ was and if he knew where she was. Come to think of it, _she_ didn't know where she was.

"_**Where the bloody hell am I and why am I chained to a bed?!"**_

"Why, you're in my room, dear Lydia. Obviously."

Crowe twisted her neck in an attempt to see where that voice had come from.

"Oh no, don't strain yourself. Allow me."

* * *

Her captor strolled out of the shadows and stopped at the foot of the bed. Her jaw dropped; "Prince Vince?" Well, that explained the whole calling her by her mother's name. His eyes were more sunken than before, and lit with an inner light that made a shiver run down Crowe's spine. Oh someone was definitely a few crayons short of a box since the last time she'd seen him. Self imposed isolation had snatched up all the sane crayons and left those weird, mixed up insane ones that no one ever uses.

"Of course it's me Lydia. Who else would it be?" he marched around the bed and stood directly over her. Crowe licked her chapped lips and wished her throat wasn't so dry. Fear had made her pulse jump up and left a thick, metallic taste in her mouth. But she forced herself to calm down and try and think rationally. Freaking out would get her nowhere; she could play along with this if it would keep her alive and let her find out where BJ was.

"You're right. How silly of me, of course it's you," she flashed Vince a self-deprecating smile. "But, Vince darling, why am I chained up?" Maybe she could get him to reveal where the keys were and trick him out of them. But of course, that brought up the question of how far she was willing to go to get the keys. She thought of BJ, missing and maybe caught to, and Ginger and Jacques, who'd been victims to this. To save them, she realized, she'd do anything.

"You're chained because I sadly cannot trust you enough to not run off to him before the wedding," Vince answered, hanging his head. He sighed and lifted his head to gaze into Crowe's eyes.

"Him?"

"Beetlejuice. He has long been a thorn in my side, coming between us when we are meant to be together. But he's been taken care of."

"What did you do to him?" Crowe demanded, and it took more effort than was pretty not to struggle and show how much BJ's fate meant to her.

"Why, Lydia, I can't tell you that. How am I to know you won't go after him?"

"Vince," Crowe smiled mockingly at him, "I'm chained to your bed. I can't go after him. All I want to know is where he is. So I can be sure he won't crash our wedding." She sighed heavily, letting her chest heave temptingly. Sure, he was dead, and crazy, but he was still male and into her, and if she had to act unbecomingly to use that to her advantage, so be it.

It worked, he kept throwing furtive little glances at the low neckline of her halter top, and where it had slid up her stomach the tiniest bit. "Well, yes, you _are_ chained. He is locked in the dungeon. But he most certainly cannot crash the wedding. The bars are made of a metal that shorts out his powers. However, should he attempt to break himself out, without the key I have, the floor will open and dump him into a pit of hungry sand worms."

"Not taking any chances are you?" Crowe muttered. She imagined poor Beetlejuice, trapped in a cell unable to use his 'juice' and knowing that just a floor separates him and ravenous sandworms.

No, I'm not. Extreme measures had to be taken in his case. You should know that better than anyone." Vince ran the back of his hand down her cheek and cupped her chin. She knew the second before he leaned down that he was going to try and kiss her. It was difficult to play into it and allow it to happen when really all Crowe wanted to do was slap him away or bite his tongue. He finally pulled away, looking smugger than he had a right to be. He walked around the bed once more, and went for the door. "Try and relax and enjoy your stay here. You're going to be here a long time." The door shut with a thunderous bang behind him.

The minute the door shut, Crowe let out the scream that had been building in her throat since she'd first seen who had captured her. She screamed until her voice gave out, and the echoes continued to bounce of the stone walls. The chains rattled as she pulled at them, twisting like a fish in a net until her muscles ached and her ankles and wrists were raw and bleeding. But the metal didn't budge.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" Crowe swore, looking up at the canopy over the bed. It was not an agreeable change in view, as the canopy was thick velvet that may once have been black but was now faded to grey with horrid green moldy spots. With a start, she realized that it was to be her marriage bed, if Vince had his way. Frustrated and more than a little scared, Crowe let out a sob, which grew into more sobs until she was crying and gasping and choking and couldn't breathe.

* * *

"Crowe honey?"

"Mom?!" That had been the exact way her mom always said her name when asking if she was ok. Crowe looked around, wishing her hands were free so she could brush the tears from her eyes. The canopy shifted above her, sending a shower of dust floating down. She sneezed, her nose itching.

"Sorry, hang on," the voice called, and suddenly Crowe could see who was talking to her.

"Ginger?" The pink spider was hanging from the bed post, crawling down to perch next to Crowe. "How the hell did you get here? Not that I'm not grateful, just…how?"

"Well, see once you'd gathered all Jacques's bones up, he was able to pull himself together and get me down. We knew who had taken you of course, and that we had to try and rescue you. Jacques sent me in since I'm smaller and could get in without being seen. And here I am. I would've dropped down sooner but I couldn't risk the creepy prince seeing me."

"It's ok. I'm just glad you're here, and that you and Jacques are alright. You wouldn't…I dunno, maybe have a way to get me out of these, would you?" Crowe asked, jangling her chains.

"Sorry sweetie, I don't. I can bandage you up though, if you'd like," Ginger gestured to her wrists.

"I would, but it would probably be better if you didn't. If I'm suddenly all wrapped up they'll get suspicious. Anyway, how are you going to get me out?"

"You didn't think tap dancing was all I'm good at, did ya?" Ginger smiled widely, flashing dainty fangs. "I've got venom, nothing too bad, but it'll knock'em out long enough to get you outta here and for us to find BJ."

"Them who?"

"When I was coming up here, I overheard them talking. Prince Vince is gonna come up tomorrow and watch over as you get fitted for your wedding dress. I'll catch'em by surprise and get the key. Simple as that."

"So I've just gotta make it through tonight? Fine, I can do that. But…don't leave me? I don't wanna be all by myself here," Crowe whispered.

"Sure thing honey," Ginger curled up pressed against Crowe's neck, nuzzling the girl's cheek.

"It's going to be a long night."

* * *

Down in the dungeon, Beetlejuice was not nearly so fortunate as to have friendly company. No, all he got was guards that taunted and mocked him; Beetlejuice finally captured, all it took was taking a human girl from him. They jeered at him and thrust the blunt end of their spears in, jabbing him into the corner as far out of reach as he could get. He slumped in the corner, bruised, battered, bloody and more angry than he could ever recall being.

He had paced for awhile, back and forth like an angry cat, until they had started to attack. Now he glared at them and tried to forget the sandworms just below.

Instead he thought of Crowe. It didn't take a genius to figure out what Prince Vince wanted with her. He planned on marrying her. Now, BJ wasn't quite a genius, but he knew enough about Neitherworld rules and stuff that he knew what marrying the prince entailed.

In order to void her marriage to Beetlejuice, Crowe would have to die, so she'd be free and clear to marry the prince and be his princess. It was likely Crowe had no idea, and no doubt Prince Vince wouldn't tell her. So he sat in his cell, knowing his Babes's final hour was coming, and that he was powerless to stop it.

* * *

Ginger was gone when Crowe woke from the fretful doze she'd fallen into. She looked to the ceiling and saw a patch of spider web there, likely a signal from Ginger that she was there, just in hiding. The door swung open, revealing a trio of ghostly maidens and Prince Vince.

"Sleep well, dear Lydia?" Vince asked, preceding the ladies in waiting into the room.

"Just peachy," Crowe snapped. She jerked at the chains, wincing when the wounds on her wrists reopened.

"Tsk, tsk," Vince examined the wounds. "We'll have to have those cleaned and bandaged. You need to look perfect for the ritual."

Crowe's blood ran cold at how ominous that sounded. "Ritual? You didn't say anything about a ritual."

"Why yes, of course. For your marriage to that detestable Beetlejuice to be void, you must die. Therefore, you must look your best before you join me in death, where you shall reign at my side as my princess. I have decided that there need to be changes in how the Neitherworld runs, and shall no longer be a figurehead. I am taking charge of my kingdom."

It hardly registered with Crowe that he was unlocking her chains until she heard the click and felt them sag. Her muscles protested as she lowered her arms, and she couldn't feel her legs just yet. It was fortunate then, that Ginger was there and ready, because there was no way Crowe could do anything but watch as the spider bit each of them, starting with Vince and ending with the ladies in waiting. Each one dropped to the floor in turn; they never saw it coming and therefore had no way to fight back.

* * *

"That was almost too easy," Crowe murmured, swinging her legs off the bed. The world spun dangerously, and her legs buckled.

"You ok there sugar?" Ginger crawled up to sit on her shoulder.

"I'll be fine, let's just get the keys and get BJ. I want out of here." Crowe gathered up the ring of keys at the prince's waist and shuffled out the door. She stumbled down the stairs, almost falling multiple times. Ginger gave her directions, having done some recon before sneaking into the room where the girl had been held.

"Left, left, right, hide! Easy Crowe, go slow. Take a breather, that's right. Go on now, down these stairs," and so on until they were in the dungeon. The heavily guarded dungeon.

"Ginger, I don't suppose…" Crowe trailed off meaningfully, nodding towards the guards.

"I can try Crowe, but I'm starting to run outta juice." Ginger scurried down her arm and to the floor. She stuck to the thick shadows on the floor, creeping up just high enough to sink her fangs into an ankle before moving on. One by one they hit the floor, groaning and gasping. Panting, the spider ran back to Crowe, who picked her up and cradled her.

"Thanks Ginger. You can rest now," Crowe whispered, making her way to the various cells. They were empty, save one.

"Babes? Babes! What the hell? How did you-'' he was cut off by Crowe embracing him through the bars and kissing him.

"Never mind that now BJ, I gotta get you out," Crowe said hastily, pulling away.

"No use Babes. I'm stuck in here, and if you try and break me out, the floor opens and I'm sand worm chow," BJ sighed heavily, backing away.

"That's why I brought the key, stupid," Crowe beamed at him, jingling the keys.

"How did you get'em off the Prince?" the ghost asked, sounding suspicious.

"BJ, honey, you can be jealous later. Right now, I'm getting you out of here," Crowe jammed the keys into the lock one by one, searching for the right one.

* * *

Unluckily, Ginger was right in her assumption that she was running out of juice. Her venom, already not the strongest, grew weaker the more she used it. One of the guards was stirring. And he saw that Crowe was about to break out Beetlejuice. Silently, he dragged himself across the floor and reached for the switch that would open the floor in the cell. He grasped it weakly and pulled with his last remaining ounce of strength. With a long, low thud, it switched over.

"Got it!" Crowe cried triumphantly, turning the key. The cell door creaked open, just as the floor dropped out from under Beetlejuice and a klaxon alarm sounded.

"Babes!" the ghost flung himself towards the edge, scrambling to keep his grip. Crowe clung to his arms, trying to pull him up. But she was weak, having had nothing to eat since before her alleged date, and from being held in the chains. She found her hold slipping.

"No! No, no, no! I won't lose you! C'mon," Crowe pulled, and BJ kicked and pushed himself up while sand worms snapped at his dangling legs. Slowly, inexorably, he rose up and collapsed with Crowe to the cell floor. On shaking legs they both managed to stand and stumble out into the hall. The alarm was still blaring, unceasingly and unnervingly loud.

"We gotta go, now! They'll be down here any second," BJ yelled over the alarm. He took Crowe's arm, and after making sure Ginger was still clinging to her, ran. They flew up the stairs, dodging the startled guards that tried to regain their thoughts and attack. BJ took them through the door, holding Crowe tight and turning her intangible along with Ginger.

There was a mass of noise and bodies behind them as Prince Vince ordered the soldiers to go after the escapees. Crowe struggled to keep up, well aware that she was leaving a trail of blood behind her. She tripped, her ankles giving out as she fell to her knees with a yelp. BJ backpedaled, gathering her in his arms and going as fast as he could. Crowe clung to his jackets, drifting in and out of consciousness.

"Babes, you gotta stay with me here. I can't get us back to your place without you saying them magic B words," he urged, giving her a shake. Ginger nudged the girl, trying to keep her talking. She told BJ to take her back to the Roadhouse, saying she and Jacques would take care of things; they'd take Doomie and get into hiding. He just needed to look after Crowe.

"It's time Crowe. Say the words and we can get out of here."

"Be-beetlejuice," Crowe mumbled weakly.

"That's one."

"Beetlejuice…"

"Two."

"…Beetlejuice."

"Three!" he carried her into her room where they fell onto her bed. Crowe moaned, utterly exhausted. The wounds at wrist and ankle had bled freely for too long, and were bright red. She was starting to feel feverishly warm; likely the Prince's room wasn't too clean, and the chains weren't cared for well. She'd picked up rust and who knew what else from them, plus she was hungry and sore and running hadn't done her any favors. The adrenaline from saving BJ had carried her so far and then…she was done.

Not that Beetlejuice was in much better shape. His chest burned from running, and he was bruised all over. There was a particularly nasty bruise around his eye that was a violent shade of purple and making his eye swell shut. His lip was swollen as well, and split. But he managed to push himself off the bed and into the bathroom. Crowe needed to cool down, before she got even worse, and while he was at it, he could check out her wounds and wrap them up.

"Mmm? BJ?" Crowe lifted her head as he picked her up.

"Hey Babes. You're starting to feel sort of warm, so I wanna get you into a bath, to cool you down. And then you're bleeding a lot, so, yeah, c'mon, up," he slid his arm under hers and lifted her. With a snap of his fingers, the tub was full of lukewarm water. Crowe's eyes fluttered open as she settled into the water. "I didn't get to say thanks for busting me out of there. So thanks Babes," BJ leaned down to press a kiss to her temple.

"No problem. I mean, I wasn't going to sit there and let it happen. I don't wanna die and be married to him," Crowe pushed her wet hair out of her face.

"He's going to be pissed though. Ginger and Jacques are taking Doomie and going to hide out. We should probably stay here for now, y'know outta the way."

Crowe agreed and let him gently dry her wrists and ankles before wrapping them in gauze. "What about you?" she asked.

"What about me?"

"You're all bruised." She ran her thumb under his eye, and he winced, feeling the bruise.

"It's nothing Babes. Don't even worry about it. You really had me worried actually. I thought I was gonna loose ya. I mean, d'you know what would have ta happen for you to marry the pint-size prince?"

"He mentioned it, yeah. Here, help me out of the water," Crowe got to her feet with his help and out to her bed. Just as she curled up lying against his chest with his arm around her shoulders, the door burst open.

"Where have you been?"

* * *

It was Ollie, looking pale and drawn tighter than a bowstring.

"That is one hell of a long story Pops," BJ answered.

"I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you," Ollie answered icily.

"Daddy, it's ok. Listen, it started with that date. That date that wasn't so much as a date as a set up by Clarissa to humiliate me. Did you know Clare Brewster was her aunt?"

Ollie shook his head and motioned for her to continue.

"She is, and was part of the…the accident. She was in the Hummer. So anyway, I was naturally upset right? Well, BJ took me to the Neitherworld for ice cream. And then we went back to the Roadhouse and found Jacques and Ginger all captured like. Then we were captured. See, mom way back in the day dated Prince Vince. And since she grew up, he went into seclusion and well…"

"Went batshit crazy," BJ supplied.

"That works, thanks. Anyway, so he has a crush on me, but since he's gone crazy, he thinks I'm mom. He almost forced me to marry him, which would've involved me dying, to void my marriage to BJ. Luckily, Ginger managed to sneak in and help me escape and I saved BJ. But I had been chained, so my wrists and ankles were all raw and bleeding and I was starving so I almost passed out. He took care of me," Crowe finished, turning an admiring look on Beetlejuice.

"And you didn't think to call?" Ollie asked.

"My phone is gone in the Neitherworld. I dropped it when I was captured."

Her father sighed. "I'm glad you're ok, but no more going to the Neitherworld without telling me. I mean it; I was worried sick about you. You're just lucky it's finals at school so you don't have to worry about missing it."

"No problems there Pops. Prince Vince is pissed we escaped. Going back there now would be a one way ticket to a speedy execution and then marriage for Crowe here," BJ squeezed her shoulders.

"Wonderful, you've made my daughter a fugitive in the world of the undead." With that parting shot, Ollie left them to spoon happily on the bed. Until BJ's jealous nature reared its head once more.

* * *

"So, uh…Babes, how _exactly_ did you manage to _persuade_ Prince Vince to fork over the keys?"

"Never mind BJ."

"Babes! Don't laugh at me! Babes! I wanna know what happened! Tell meeee!"

_A/N: and there we go. That's what happened. And it sets up for the big climactic ending in the next few chapters. Which will be up soon enough. I promise._


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N: Here's the next chapter then. The beginning of the big climactic ending I promised_.

They tried to keep things normal, despite the fact that they couldn't return to the Neitherworld. And to a degree, they succeeded. Ollie at least, felt that way as he tried to help Crowe get ready for the senior prom.

* * *

"Babes? Babes, why are you running around in your underwear?"

"Not now BJ, I'm trying to get ready!"

"Ready for what?"

"I said not now!"

* * *

Beetlejuice growled and floated down from the Tower where Crowe had locked herself in. She made it very clear that if he so much as passed through, she would remove a part of his anatomy that was near and dear to him. It was enough to make even the ghost with the most turn tail.

"What's her problem?" he asked Ollie, jerking his thumb upward.

"She's getting ready for her prom," Ollie answered, loading fresh batteries into his camera.

"Prom?! What prom? Why wasn't I invited?"

"Crowe's going to make some sort of statement, that she doesn't need a date to have a good time."

"Right, well we'll just see about that." Without another word, BJ was gone, presumably to the Neitherworld, despite the threat it posed.

* * *

Crowe walked carefully down the stairs in her new prom shoes. They were wedge heeled, peep toed and of a shiny black material, with silky ties that climbed up her calves.

"You look beautiful honey," Ollie told her, snapping pictures furiously. "And you certainly make quite a statement already."

"Really? Nice, that's what I was going for. Where's BJ?"

"I have no clue honestly. He just pulled his little disappearing act."

"Wonderful. Well, I can't wait around here for him. I've got to get to prom."

* * *

Beetlejuice surveyed the wreckage that had once been his home. The Prince's cronies had done a good job going through everything, leaving broken drawers and a mirror and clothes strewn about. A light flickered vainly above his head before sparking out completely. The stairs, which he needed to climb, were either torn apart of blocked by detritus. Perfect.

"No, no, not that one. Ah ha! This one!" BJ pulled the suit from the back of his closet. He changed into it by hand, wanting to save his power for what he was about to attempt. Just to get it going would take a lot of juice, and then to keep it up all night…but it would be worth it in the end. If it worked of course.

* * *

Crowe got a few stares when she entered the swanky hotel where the prom was held. Some of interest, one or two that might've been jealousy, and more than a few sneers. She brushed them off. At least she hadn't gotten any snide remarks, because, surprisingly, Clarissa and her minions weren't there. Which just made the night that much better in her opinion.

She threw herself into every fast song, dancing as though her life depended on it. It didn't matter that she was on the fringes of the mass of people; like she'd want to be in the thick of the writing mass of dry humping all alone anyway. It was cooler actually on the edges, and she was in less danger of getting an elbow in the eye. But then the slow songs started, and the couples spaced out, wrapped around each other. Crowe shook her head in disgust at the dopey looks and the slow tempo grinding. No, she would just go get herself a drink instead.

* * *

He threaded his way through the crowd, searching for her. He found her off the floor, a drink in one hand, slowly swaying in time to the music. She looked…amazing. Her dress was of a material that imitated black patent leather. It had a high tight collar with a tear drop cut out over her chest, and then flowed down, clinging to her until it flared out at the bottom, which was barred in thick vertical stripes of black and white. It brought to mind a mermaid in shape.

The sleeves left her shoulders bare, attached farther down the dress, hugging her arms and ending hooked around her middle fingers. She turned slightly and showed that it was backless. She'd piled her hair up and curled the few remaining strands that hung down, and lined her eyes so they were smoky black and grey. The only real spot of color was the deep red lipstick.

"So, how's the campaign for singles going Babes?" He crept up behind her and slid his hands over her shoulders.

"Pretty good BJ…BJ?" Crowe yelped, whirling to face him. Her jaw dropped as she took in the sight of him.

He looked almost alive, still pale but with a warm glow. His eyes didn't appear sunken in or shadowed, and even his teeth were straight and almost white. His hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, and was soft and thick, a pale blonde. He'd dressed in a clean crimson tuxedo with a black button up shirt, bow tie and cummerbund.

* * *

"You've got green eyes," Crowe said softly.

"Yeah, didn't you know?" BJ grinned as Crowe circled him, running her hands down his arm and playing with his hair.

"Never really noticed before. You look so good!"

"Not like you though. Seriously, how'd you get into that dress? It's so tight." His appreciative gaze roved up and down her.

Crowe gave him a lopsided smile over her shoulder. "Well, it wasn't easy you know. Took a lot of _flexibility_."

"And what about getting out of it?"

"Oh, I'm sure I'll need help with that. Anyway, what're you doing here? And how are you looking so alive?"

"Couldn't let you make a statement without me Babes, now could I? As to how I look this way, it's taking some effort, but nothing I can't handle. Now, you wanna dance?"

"I'd love to." Crowe took BJ's offered hand, well aware of the looks they were getting. People were most likely wondering who her date was, where he'd come from. She didn't care. She only had eyes for him.

BJ placed one hand on her hip, but didn't take her free hand. She looked questioningly at him. "Just a sec Babes. I wanna get the perfect song." He snapped his fingers, and at once the song changed. Low, slow tempo music started to play. A song Crowe recognized.

"You're such a dork," she laughed, taking his hand.

"I thought it was fitting," he retorted, and started to lead her along with The Eels song "Beautiful Freak". To Crowe, it felt perfect, following him in the dance without a care in the world, and she couldn't help but feel a little sad when the song ended.

They danced the rest of the evening, and were among the last to leave. They walked home instead of BJ pulling his disappearing act, enjoying the clear, cool night.

* * *

"You cold Babes?" BJ asked, looking down at Crowe and seeing she was shivering a little.

"Not really." Crowe rubbed her hands up her arms, trying to get warmth through friction. Next thing she knew, she had Beetlejuice's tux jacket draped around her shoulders. "Thanks. You didn't have to though."

"Yeah, but whatever. It's just a jacket," he shrugged, trying to hide the smile as she slipped her hand into his. She didn't let go even when he started to change back into his usual self, keeping her grip as they strolled slowly back to her house and up to bed.

* * *

Ollie had gone on to work, leaving Crowe and BJ with the house to themselves for the day. Crowe lounged on the sofa, her feet hanging over the arm of it and a bowl of ice cream balanced precariously on her stomach. BJ floated above her, stretched out in the air, resting his chin on his arms. He was only half listening to her, engrossed in watching her eat her ice cream. A little bit of caramel sauce had dribbled down her chin and he was wondering what she'd do if he licked it off.

"It's weird though, isn't it?"

"What's that Babes?" BJ rolled over and stood up, drifting down to the ground.

"Clarissa wasn't at prom. I would've expected her to be there as prom queen. Come to think of it, I actually haven't seen her or any of her pals since the date that wasn't."

"Maybe she went on vacation or something," BJ muttered in response.

"All of them? With no notice and during finals and prom? Not likely," Crowe shook her head. "Nah, something's up here."

"Why do you care Babes? They were horrible to you! For all you know, they got some major bad karma payback for it. I say let sleeping dogs lie."

Crowe looked critically at him. "Why're you so against me being curious? I mean, they're missing and enemy or not, people will speculate. And it's common knowledge that them and I weren't best friends, someone might suspect me."

"They wouldn't," BJ said assuredly.

"Why not?" It suddenly dawned on her. "BJ, what did you do?"

He glared down at her, affronted. "I didn't do anything you wouldn't have done if given the chance. I gave them a taste of their own medicine."

Crowe's eyes widened and she paled visibly. "What did you do?" she demanded, more urgently. "BJ, tell me what you did!"

* * *

Beetlejuice let out a low growl of frustration and grabbed her arm, perhaps more roughly than he should've. Without another word he pulled her along to where he'd strung up Clarissa and the others. They were still alive, but only because he was keeping them that way. They let out muffled screams at the sight of him and struggled in vain.

Unconsciously, Crowe fell to her knees. She couldn't believe it, that BJ had done _this_. She knew he was crude and crass and mean, but this was just…bloodthirsty, malicious. Clarissa met her gaze, her eyes wide with shock, and pleading to be released.

"You need to let them go."

"Babes…"

"Don't 'Babes' me right now Beetlejuice. I mean it. Let them down now, heal them. And erase the memory of this event. They don't deserve this, no one does."

"Oh, come on! Don't tell me you wouldn't-''

"No! I would never torture someone like this, no matter what they did to me!" Crowe rounded on BJ, jabbing him in the chest with her finger. "Now you let them free now, heal them, and erase the memory of this from all of them!"

Sullenly, he did as she bid him. He even went so far as to send them home before facing Crowe. She wasn't looking at him, which wasn't a good sign.

"I'm going home now," she began.

"Ok, good, I'm starving."

"No, Beetlejuice, you're staying here."

"What?! Babes, c'mon you can't leave me here! What about the Prince?"

"You're sneaky BJ, you'll figure something out. And yes I can leave you here. I...I need to think about this. You were unbelievably cruel to them, and it was just over something so trivial. Were you even thinking about how I'd react? And my god, they've been here since last month! Were you just going to leave them here? What about when people started wondering where they'd gone?"

Crowe was pacing by the time she finished her rant, and stopped, gazing up at him. "I'd just like it if you stayed here a little bit. I'll call you back when I've thought this through, ok?"

"Sure, whatever Babes. Do what you want," he snapped, turning his back on her. He faintly heard her mumble the words to go home, and the rush of wind as she disappeared.

* * *

Crowe returned to her bedroom, and lay on her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. She tried, but she couldn't erase the image of Clarissa's deadened eyes begging her to help, or the blood dripping down their arms as sandworms leapt up to try and take a bite. Letting out an annoyed groan, Crowe burrowed her head in her pillows, wishing the thought would go away. But it seemed the harder she tried the clearer it became until she could almost smell the filth, and blood and the rank smell of the sandworms. She barely made it to the bathroom in time to heave into the toilet.

Trembling, Crowe got to her feet, and wet a cloth with cold water before pressing it to her forehead. She felt moderately better when she lay down on her bed. She dozed off, and her dad found her there when he got home from work that evening.

"Hey sweetie, wake up," Ollie gently nudged her shoulder. Crowe bolted up, rubbing her eyes.

"Daddy? Must've fallen asleep," she murmured, finger combing her hair.

"Guess so. Where's Beetlejuice?" Ollie asked, helping her to stand and taking her to the kitchen.

"I left him in the Neitherworld."

"Why? I thought you two couldn't go there," he sat down at the table, waiting for the explanation. Crowe didn't look at him for what felt like the longest time, yet still he held his tongue, not wanting to rush her.

"You remember the date I went on, the one where I was set up by Clarissa?" Crowe finally said. Her dad nodded. "Well, he apparently saw the whole show, and took exception. He took the matter into his own hands, dispensing revenge in ways no one deserves," she continued, going on to give him a brief description of what she'd seen. "So I told him I needed to think on it. It's a shock, and I was freaked out. I mean, I knew he wasn't nice, I always suspected he had a darker nature, but I didn't anticipate just how dark."

"How could you have? I think you did the best thing, leaving him there, where he belongs," Ollie said firmly.

"It's not so simple daddy. I love him, y'know? I can't leave him there forever. I just need to sort out how I feel about finding out he has near homicidal tendencies and go from there. Easy." Crowe nodded to herself and went back up to her room. Ollie watched her go, wondering if other married couples had to worry about their spouse's homicidal urges.

Beetlejuice watched through the mirror, making certain that Crowe couldn't see him. She was pacing again, and muttering to herself.

"Just forgive me already Babes," he whispered. "I didn't mean it. I'll be good, I swear. Just let me back in there. It's cold here and I don't like it! It's not like I couldn't fix them back up good as new! They're fine, I'm fine, I'm not gonna lose it just let me back!"

But she didn't. Instead, she changed into her pajamas and curled up in bed by herself. Sighing heavily, BJ took post watching over her.

Neither of them was aware of the danger that was lurking just over the horizon.

_A/N: a little shorter with this chapter. Hopefully still as good as the others though. We're drawing ever closer to the big ending. Which is, coincidentally, the next chapter. oh, and also, check out the prom song i picked for them, if you don't know it. it's a good song, and i thought it very fitting.  
_


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N: so, here we go; the culmination of it all. I may have lied when I said this was the last chapter, as I may make the epilogue the last one. I don't know yet. Either way, here's the big ending. _

Crowe could not breathe. Every attempt she made to do so scorched and seared her lungs, and left her coughing and gasping.

Light flickered irregularly, and smoke hung thickly in the air. Fire, the house was on fire. Crowe bolted upright in bed. The house was on fire! She scrambled out of bed and crawled over to the door, trying to open it without burning her hand. So far the flames hadn't reached her room, but they were licking at the door. She wrapped her hand in a t-shirt and pulled at the door. It didn't budge.

"Help! Daddy! Beetlejuice! Someone, get me out!" Crowe screamed, pounding at the door. She inhaled more smoke and ash and started to choke. Her banging on the door grew weaker as she slid to the floor. It was then she faintly remembered that she'd sent BJ away, and she didn't have the breath to call him back. He couldn't come save her.

* * *

Ollie was being restrained outside by two firefighters as the rest tried desperately to get into the house. He had to get in though. Crowe was still in there, he'd heard her yell, but she'd just gone silent. All he could hear was the fire tearing into the house and the hoarse cries of the firefighters as they attempted to break down the door.

The fire had seemingly just sprung to life. Ollie had been asleep one moment, coughing and being dragged from the house the next. The neighbors had seen the fire and called the fire department, and they had gotten him out. But they couldn't get out Crowe. It was as though every time they tried to get to her door, the flames would leap higher and block them, or if they tried the window, the flames started to lick at the ladder like they would climb it. And no matter how much water they poured onto the flames, there was always more, never ceasing.

* * *

Beetlejuice knew of course who was behind the unnatural fire. The only problem was finding him.

He flew high over the Neitherworld, streaking towards the castle. He aimed for the tower where the Prince's room was located and shot through the wall. He tackled the pint size prince, slamming him into the hard ground and pinning him.

Prince Vince was unaffected; he even smiled up at Beetlejuice as though there was nothing odd about the other ghost attacking him.

"Why Beetlejuice, how nice to see you. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

BJ snarled, "Don't play dumb. You started the fire at Crowe's house. And if you wanna keep the shape you're in now, I suggest you put it out. Now!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Why not!"

"One the flames are started, they won't stop until their job is complete."

"And what's their job?" BJ ground out.

"To ensure that Lydia, or Crowe as you call her, has no choice but to become my bride."

BJ looked at the prince with dawning horror. "You mean…"

"Yes. She will die of smoke inhalation, but not the fire, thus maintaining her beauty. Meanwhile the flames keep everyone else out," Prince Vince's smile turned spiteful. "I suggest you get one last look at her before she is mine forever-'' his head snapped back as BJ drove the heel of his hand into his nose and flew back as fast as he could.

* * *

Crowe was lying limp on the floor in her room, barely breathing. BJ banged his fists against the mirror, willing it to let him through. A tremor ran through the house as the flames started to creep around the gas tank in the basement. He paused as he felt it through the mirror. On the floor, Crowe stirred the tiniest bit, her eyes sliding open.

"Beetle…juice?" she moaned and curled into a ball as the house shook again.

"That's right Babes, say it again. Come on!" the ghost yelled through the mirror.

"…Beetlejuice," Crowe whispered.

"One more, you can do it!"

The house shook again, rattling the shelves in her room. Beetlejuice watched on as they tipped dangerously towards Crowe.

"Beetlejuice…" Crowe let out a long sigh.

The mirror cracked under Beetlejuice's hands as the foundation quaked. The tank was groaning and shuddering, milliseconds from exploding. There was nothing BJ could do but cover Crowe himself and hope for the best.

* * *

Ollie stared as the house blew outwards and upwards, the gas exploding and fueling the fire. The panic that had settled like a weight in his stomach surged upwards into a scream as he struggled against the firemen holding him. He finally sagged in their grip, sobbing as he was half carried to an ambulance to be treated. He ignored the confused babble as the firefighters commented on how the fire was easier to put out now.

For an hour they sifted through the rubble, searching for the girl but beginning to lose hope. There had been no sign of her, and trying to get upstairs was dangerous. Finally, they brought the truck around and climbed the ladder to get into her room. The fire man at the top shoved through the window and climbed inside, testing the floor. His eyes scanned the room, seeing nothing but charred and scorched bedding and furniture. He looked lower, and stopped at a something paler than everything else. It was a hand, slightly ashy and burned, and it was attached to the girl. "I've found her!

* * *

Ollie leapt into his car, following behind the ambulance that carried Crowe. They hadn't told him anything, whether she was alive or dead. He was frantic, and it took him three tries to put the key into the ignition. He nearly careened off the road when Beetlejuice appeared in the passenger seat, looking more than a little singed.

"Quit gaping at me Pops and drive!" he ordered, slouching in his seat.

"I thought she sent you away?" Ollie got control of the car.

"Yeah, well, not like I was gonna sit there and let her die. Even if all I could do was keep the worst of the blast from getting to her."

"That was you?"

"Why else you think I look like this? Yeah, that was me. Now let's go!" BJ urged.

Ollie nodded and drove after the ambulance. He skidded into a parking spot and fumbled with his seat belt. "How're you going to get-''he was cut off as BJ vanished and reappeared on his wrist as the snake Crowe often carried. Ollie shook his head, and hurried into the hospital.

Hours and piles of forms to fill out later, Ollie was seated at his daughter's bedside, holding her hand and wishing there was more he could do. BJ had slithered from his arm up to twine around her neck, nuzzling against her cheek. He tried, by sheer will alone, to get her heart to beat stronger. Prince Vince better hope she made it, and pulled through. If she didn't, not even the ever expanding Neitherworld was big enough to hide him. BJ swore he'd tear the place apart to hunt him down and make him pay.

* * *

She was cold. So very cold. Which was odd, because hadn't she been in a fire?

"You'll get used to it soon sweetie," a soft voice said, and Crowe could hear the tinge of sadness in it.

"Hello? Who's there?" Crowe tried to peer through the gloom that hung around her, wherever she was.

A figure started to emerge from the mists, a figure that left Crowe feeling like she was looking into a mirror, albeit her reflection was a bit older, and the eyes were different.

"Mom?"

"Yes honey. It's me," Lydia held out her arms. Crowe flung herself into her mother's arms, feeling safe and loved. She had so missed the feel of her mother's arms around her. Lydia smiled and kissed the top of her daughter's head. Crowe looked up at her, unable to stop the tears that welled in her eyes.

"I've missed you so much mom. All the time," she mumbled, hugging her again.

"So have I. You and your father both."

"But where are we?"

Lydia frowned, letting her daughter go slightly. "It's hard to describe Crowe. I'm not entirely sure myself."

"Am…am I dead?" Crowe asked, voice trembling.

"I'm afraid so. I never would have thought Prince Vince would go this far," Lydia sighed.

Crowe blinked in surprise. "Prince Vince?"

Her mom nodded, "Yes. He started the flames, wanting you to be his bride in death. I think he wanted to relive the relationship he and I had, only more. I've watched him a bit, and he has gone mad without any friends and being locked away in that castle. But I never believed…but it's too late now. Thank god BJ was able to protect you as much as he did."

"I called for him, didn't I?"

"You did. And he came because he loves you. I think maybe even more than he loved me," Lydia grinned down at her. Crowe flushed and looked away.

"Do you miss him too?"

"Of course. But I couldn't stay with him, no matter how much he might've wanted it. It wouldn't have been fair for anyone if I stayed behind as a ghost, never changing but watching you all grow up. So I made the choice to move on. A choice you now have."

Crowe gulped. "I get to choose?" She looked downward and then back at her mom. "It's so good to see you again. It really is mom…but…"

Lydia smiled in understanding. "I know sweetie. He sort of grows on you."

"Like a fungus," Crowe snickered.

"Yeah, like that. That's fine though. But when you get down there, tell him from me to stop picking on you so much. And tell him and your dad that I miss them both very much, and love them, and I'll be keeping an eye from where I am."

"Sure thing. I love you mom," Crowe squeezed her one last time. The last thing she heard was her mom's whisper of "I love you too."

* * *

The hospital room was in pandemonium when she floated down, hovering above the scene. The doctor was trying to restart her heart while a nurse ushered her dad out. She watched him, and saw a glimpse of black and white on his wrist. The doctor tried again and again to bring her back, but it was no use.

Crowe kept back as they called the time and shook their heads sadly. They filed out and let Ollie in to say on last good bye. BJ crawled onto the bed to lay his head on her hand. He didn't expect her to stick around, not when she could be reunited with her mom.

She finally couldn't keep quiet anymore. She dropped to the ground silently and approached her dad.

"Daddy? Daddy, don't be sad. I'm ok, sort of," Crowe said gently. Ollie stared at her, his eyes red and his nose running. BJ lifted his head, his tongue flicking out.

"Babes? What're you doing here?"

"I decided to stick around," Crowe answered. She turned back to Ollie. "Mom says hi, by the way."

"You saw Lyds?" BJ shifted from the snake form. "Did she mention me?"

"Yeah, she said to quit picking on me. And that she misses both of you, and loves you both very much."

Ollie still had yet to speak; instead he sat staring at her. Finally, he was able to articulate what he was thinking. "I suppose you'll be returning to the Neitherworld then?"

"Oh dad," Crowe tried to comfort him, only to have her arms pass through him. She opted for kneeling down in front of him, forcing him to look at her. "I won't be gone forever. I'll still visit. You can count on it. But, I've got to go. Not just because I'm…well dead now. But BJ and me, we gotta take care of Prince Vince. He's the one who started the fire."

"Ok," Ollie nodded slowly. "For that, I get it. But you had better visit." He turned to BJ. "And you better look out for her. If I hear from her that you're-''

"Yeah, yeah Pops. Don't even worry about it. I'll take care of her. someone's gotta teach her what it's like to be dead, and who better than me? Ready to go Babes?" Beetlejuice asked.

"Can I try changing first? I don't want to wear this hospital gown all the time."

"Give it a shot. Concentrate hard on what you want to wear."

Crowe nodded and shut her eyes, thinking hard. The next instant she was dressed in a long, simple black dress and the emerald green cloak her mom had made. She beamed down at herself.

"Nice. Now c'mon, there's a kingdom that needs to be overthrown."

"Ok! Just a second," Crowe faced Ollie. "I guess this is goodbye. But not forever. I'll come back, all the time. I promise. Try not to be too sad, ok?"

"I promise. Goodbye Crowe. Take care of yourself."

BJ swept Crowe into his arms and they vanished to the Neitherworld, leaving Ollie alone.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: yeah, this is now the official last chapter. I decided to put the epilogue as a separate one instead of adding it to the last chapter.

Prince Vince, when he discovered that Beetlejuice had protected Crowe and that she wasn't to be his bride, declared war on them and any of their friends.

Surprisingly, there were more ghosts against Prince Vince than BJ thought. He suspected that it wasn't out of any fond feelings for him, but more out of a desire to put the prince in his place. Or they just preferred Crowe, seeing as she had a habit of making friends out of most of the Neitherworld citizens.

The war went on for ages it seemed like, and it was hell. No place was safe, and no one could trust anyone else. The cities were all in ruins as well. Prince Vince's army seemed boundless, never ceasing to destroy all who stood in their path. It looked bleak, like his army would succeed in flattening all else in the world.

Until Crowe knocked him down.

* * *

BJ didn't want her to do it. He even tried ordering her to stay in the bunker that he'd found. But of course, she didn't listen.

She'd discovered, with time, that she could shape shift just as good as he could. Her favorite form was her namesake, a large crow with sleek black feathers. Going against BJ's wishes, she flew to Prince Vince's tower, a scrap of paper in her talons. He was asleep when she alighted in the window and shifted noiselessly back to herself, wrapped in the thick green cloak.

She held the paper up, re-reading the words that she'd written there. She had asked BJ how one could go about permanently ridding oneself of a ghost. He'd explained that the one true way was to exorcise them, and there was an ancient spell, hidden in the town library to do just that. After a recon mission to retrieve the book, Crowe had found the spell and tweaked it just for the Prince. Now all she had to do was make it work.

The words came easily, as she had committed them to memory. The power started to grow in them, until the hair on the back of her neck stood at attention and a cold wind whipped up. The prince jolted awake, and shrieked, trying to dive at her. But he couldn't move, he was pinned to the bed by the words. Bright light enveloped him, and he screamed. Crowe continued to chant, not looking up from the paper. The wind grew stronger and the light grew brighter until it was like a storm. With one last cry, the prince was gone.

* * *

After that, his army fell. Without anyone to lead, it broke apart and was easily overthrown. BJ personally saw most of them fed to sandworms. As soon as that was done, they set to work on rebuilding the Neitherworld back into the quirky, sometimes scary place it had been. Which, given the number of ghosts and ghouls they had to work, and the power they all had, didn't take long at all.

Crowe divided her time between rebuilding the Roadhouse and visiting her dad. He couldn't believe what she'd done to save the Neitherworld. She told him, with only a little bit of pride, about how she was something of a hero. They were even thinking of setting up a statue in her honor.

As time went on, she didn't visit quite so much. She had become de facto person in charge in the Neitherworld, which took a lot of time and responsibility. She wasn't quite a mayor, but people did look to her to figure out what to do. BJ couldn't have been happier in all honesty. He was married to the head honcho; he could do just about anything he wanted. Besides that, he thought the power was hot.

* * *

Still, Crowe dropped in to see Ollie as often as she could, though not always in ways he would've expected. Sometimes, he'd be driving and look up to see a crow keeping pace with the car. Or he'd wake up to distant cawing. And some mornings, when he went to get the newspaper, he'd find a single black feather tucked in with it. And he'd smile, because he knew he was being watched over.

Meanwhile, Lydia watched over them both, and she too couldn't help but smile softly, pleased that they had all found a measure of peace at last.

_The End_

_A/N: sigh. And so ends the adventures of BJ and Crowe. Hope you liked reading it as much as I liked writing it. ttfn._


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